Love is a Battlefield
by CharlotteBlackwood
Summary: The Wilde sisters, the Weasley brothers, the war. Follow the two families and their interactions through the eyes of the Wilde girls, Emma, Val, Joss, and Jo. *Collaboration with xyellowconverse, Freakin-Little, and Missing Triforce* BW/OC, CW/OC, FW/OC, GW/OC
1. Soup and a Sandwich: Val

**A/N: Welcome to **_**Love is a Battlefield**_**! If you've not checked out my last collaboration piece, **_**Maybe I Know**_**, you should head on over to **_**xyellowconverse**_**'s page and read it. We had so much fun writing it that we started another project, this one! This time, we've included the other lovely writers, **_**Freakin-Little**_** and **_**Missing Triforce**_**. This story will be told in multiple viewpoints, Val, Emma, Joss, and Jo. The first four chapters will be told in that order, and you'll get to know each of the Wilde sisters as they travel through the war and fall in love. This story is going to go all the way through the end of the Harry Potter series, starting at the beginning of book four. I hope you stick along for the ride and enjoy! We've been planning since February and we're so excited to display our work for you all!**

**-J**

The tavern was packed with people. I wasn't meeting a source that day; thank Merlin, because I wouldn't have been able to hear a word over the din in the seating area. Even the bar was far from quiet.

"Butterbeer, please," I said clearly to the barman. "And a chicken sandwich. Wheat, not rye."

The barman frowned. He didn't like that I was so picky with my orders, but he put up with me because I brought him quite a lot of regular business, holding all of my interviews for work there, when I didn't have to interview them in their natural environments, so to speak.

"Hey, I know that voice…"

I stiffened, following the sound of the voice of the speaker with my eyes and sure enough, finding none other than the freckle faced redhead Charlie Weasley, with one of his fellow dragon-tamers.

Charlie and I had gone to Hogwarts together. He had been in Gryffindor, and I in Hufflepuff. I had fallen in love with him, and he had hardly known I existed.

He knew my best friend, though. Everybody knew Tonks.

She had been the "fun one", and I had been the Prefect. Even in the bad we'd had together (The Primordial Soup), she had been the star, despite the fact that she'd been the drummer and I had been the front man.

People just loved Tonks.

Still, Charlie Weasley had been _the_ star Quidditch player in our time at Hogwarts, so I became the commentator. He had taken Care of Magical Creatures, so I took it too. And when he got a job in a dragon colony in Romania, I packed my bags first and filled out applications for journalistic work after.

And he'd never noticed me.

But there we were, in a Romanian tavern, and he'd recognized my voice.

"Are you…" he said nervously, noticing that I was looking at him. "Sorry, did you go to Hogwarts?"

_And_ he still didn't know my face.

"Yeah," I said, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. "You're Charlie Weasley, right?"

Of course he was, but it wouldn't do for him to know that I'd followed him to Romania.

"Yeah," he said with a grin. "Sorry, your voice just sounded so familiar, and I was hoping I wasn't just imagining things."

"Um, yeah," I said. "I commentated for a few years–"

"Oh, yeah, you were Tonks's friend!" Charlie said brightly.

And there it was.

Three years gone by and the other end of the continent, and I'm still 'Tonks's friend'.

"Yep, that's me!" I said in the cheeriest voice I could muster.

"What's she been up to?"

"Oh, Auror training. Mad-Eye Moody's pulled her under his wing. Apparently she's topping her year in disguise."

He grinned.

"Well, that's not too surprising, but it's hard picturing Tonks in a regular job. I mean, didn't you guys have that band? I loved The Primordial Soup, you were really good."

"Yeah, Tonks was great," I said, trying to keep my straining smile.

"No," he said, his ears tinging pink. "I mean, she was, but I was talking about you. You… you had a beautiful voice, even speaking. I loved listening to game commentary as I looked for the Snitch because you had such a beautiful voice." He shook his head a little and said, "I went to all your performances."

I probably looked like a fish, gaping at him that way, but there you go. We sat there looking at each other for a moment, him growing ever pinker and me with my mouth slightly agape.

His friend cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to introduce me, Charlie, or what?"

My mouth snapped shut and Charlie seemed to become aware of himself as well, shaking his head a little.

"Right, sorry. This is Felix Thomas. He works with me at the local dragon colony."

"Of course," I said genially, shaking Felix's hand. He was blond, sturdy, and maybe ten years older than us, which would certainly account for my having never met him before, but there was something familiar about the way he looked at me that I couldn't quite place. I brushed the thought aside as paranoia, despite the crawling in my skin, and brought myself back down to earth. "Pleasure to meet you, Felix. I'm Valerie Wilde."

"Pleasure's all mine," Felix said with a grin. "You two went to school together, then?"

"Yeah," I said, shrugging. "Charlie was a Quidditch star and I was the best friend of a girl who constantly outshined me."

That sounded a lot bitterer out loud than it had in my head. Felix just laughed.

"I can't fathom anyone outshining you," he said with a wink.

The wink didn't faze me. I wasn't the type to turn into putty over just any pretty boy, pretty though Felix was.

"You clearly haven't met Tonks," I said with a wry smile. "She outshines the sun."

"Wait," Charlie said, a look on his face like he was working out something complicated. "Wilde? Are you related to Emma Wilde? She would have been about Bill's age…"

"Yeah, she's my older sister," I said, nearly internally groaning. If people didn't know me as 'Tonks's friend', they knew me as 'Emma's sister' and I hadn't even chosen that one. I loved my sister, but she was so perfect that it was sometimes difficult to live up to.

"Bill told me about her," Charlie said slowly, "but I guess he probably wouldn't want me sharing that. Anyway, didn't we know each other as… as…" A strange look came over his face. "… Valley?"

My eyes widened.

Charlie's father, Arthur, had been very close to my father before my father's death, and I had seen him a bit as a child. Apparently, 'Valerie' is a difficult thing for a small child to say, so Charlie had called me 'Valley' instead. The last time anyone had called me that was at my father's funeral, when Charlie had said goodbye. But that had been years before Hogwarts, and I was so sure he wouldn't ever put two and two together, realize I was the little girl he'd chased around the pews of the Muggle church my mother selected for the funeral.

"Wow," I said softly, sure I'd colored bright pink. "I never thought I'd hear somebody call me that again."

"It's really you?" he whispered, looking at me closely. "Wow, it is." His eyes were taking in my basic looks, the mousy-brown hair, the hazel eyes, the completely nondescript face… It was no wonder nobody ever remembered me. "You look just the same; I can't believe I could have forgotten."

That was a bald-faced lie. As a child, I had been energetic and full of life, and that always makes a person more attractive. I had become increasingly worn down with responsibility and regret throughout life, and it seemed like the only times I was acting like that child anymore were when I was behaving completely crazy because of Charlie, like following him to another country. How could he possibly look at me and say I looked like the same person? When I looked in the mirror I cringed at my plainness.

"I guess," I said with a shrug. "You look different. Older, obviously, but…"

I cut off, aware I was blushing. How did you tell someone they were absolutely gorgeous and the thing of your dreams? Perhaps it was one of those things that ought not to be said out loud.

"I can't believe it's you," he said, shaking his head. "I can't believe I didn't realize it in school."

"I'm not surprised," I said with a shrug. "You didn't have any cause to notice me."

That, of course, was false. I went out of my way every day doing everything I could think of to get him to notice me, for all the good it did me. He had hundreds of causes to notice me, but never did. There was always someone prettier, something more interesting. He knew my voice, yes, but big deal. I wasn't my voice.

But then, maybe I was. People remembered the words I had sung in The Primordial Soup. People remembered my broadcasts. When they didn't recall my face or my name, they remembered the words I said and the voice that said them. Maybe I was my voice.

"So what do you do?" Felix asked, picking up the conversation ball Charlie and I had clearly dropped and trying to get it rolling again. "I mean, what's your job? Charlie and I clearly work with dragons…"

"I'm a journalistic correspondent to the _Daily Prophet_," I said, hoping I sounded far more important than I actually was. "I cover any story in the area, although as there's not a lot of stuff going on in Eastern Europe of interest to the _Prophet_, I tend to just get called for everything from Greece to Lithuania, even though I live in Romania."

"Oh, really?" Felix said, grinning. "Far from here?"

"No, not far at all," I said casually, not wanting Charlie to realize that I'd gotten a flat as close to the dragon colony as possible. Not that I like dragons. They're terrifying and I lived in fear that one would break out every day, but I also lived in the hope that I would run into Charlie at some point.

And thankfully, that happened before a dragon could break out, so apparently I had some measure of good luck.

I explained to Felix where my flat was and his eyes lit up.

"Wow, you should visit the colony sometime!" he said eagerly. "Maybe do a feature on the amazingly attractive men working there, hmm?" he prodded, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

I thought Charlie might be scowling, but I wasn't entirely sure what at, so I just laughed and said, "I'd love to do a piece on the dragons. They're a bit terrifying, but maybe I'd make a decent page for once. My work always gets shifted to some unimportant corner of the paper where nobody will ever see it because they'll have fallen asleep by the time they get there. Dragons are interesting, though. I might have a shot of getting read with that."

"And a nice big picture of me will get you the front page, sweetheart," Felix said with a wink, and there was no doubt about it: Charlie was scowling at Felix and his flirtatious behavior. Perhaps Felix did this a lot and Charlie found it annoying.

"You should visit sometime, he's right," Charlie said, rearranging his features quickly into a friendly smile as he turned back to me. "I'll be sure to keep Felix's ego in one of the dragon containment zones if you do."

I assured them that I would, and Felix scribbled down the information for the colony on a napkin, but he didn't have to. What he didn't know was that I walked past the colony about twice a week in hopes of catching a glimpse of Charlie at work through the fence.

"C'mon, mate, we've got to be getting back to work," Charlie said. "Nice seeing you, Valerie."

"Absolutely," Felix said, still grinning. "Hope to see you again soon, sweetheart."

I just rolled my eyes and said goodbye, assuring them that I would be dropping by while mentally calculating how soon I could drop in on the colony without making it look like I was desperate to see either one of them (because Felix and his giant ego might misinterpret my presence as for his benefit).

Then I made my way back to my flat to finish the letters I was writing to my sisters, Jo, Joss, and Emma. I had to let them know when I would be going back to England for the Quidditch World Cup, and that things were going well. I also decided to put in Joss's about running into Charlie at the tavern, knowing she would tell the other two, getting the discussion all ready for me when I got back to England so that I would have time to decide how I felt about it and what it meant for my life in the long term, if anything.

Emma was the oldest, and she was always driven by her work and need to help people. As a Healer, she'd work extra hours often, especially when some particularly gruesome case was brought to her attention. She couldn't help her need to help people, and that was admirable, if not incredibly difficult to live up to.

Joss was a firecracker. She was still in school, in her seventh year. My parents had told me for years that I wasn't supposed to have a favorite sibling, but Joss had long been my secret favorite sister. Her full name was Jocelyn, but our mother's taste for stuck-up, classical Muggle names didn't keep us restrained by them. She went by Joss, I went by Val, and Josephine (less than a year younger than Joss) went by Jo. Only Emma managed to come out with a decent name, although nearly everybody but my sisters and Tonks called me Valerie, and I'd come to think it wasn't so bad.

Everybody addressed Joss as Joss. They might have suffered loss of limb if they hadn't, except for Professor McGonagall. To her, all four of us were "Miss Wilde", but what could you do about that? Occasionally, when Joss and Jo were getting into trouble together (which happened alarmingly often), they had the pleasure of being called, "Miss Jocelyn Wilde and Miss Josephine Wilde," usually all in one breath.

I think Joss spent more time in detention than out of it. She liked pulling pranks, and although she had gotten much better about not getting caught, the same couldn't necessarily be said for Jo, whom she often dragged along for the ride.

One thing I had done growing up that I regretted more as I got older was not paying enough attention to Jo. Granted, half my attention was always being sucked up by my obsession with Charlie Weasley, but I always preferred to play with Joss, or study, or hang out with Tonks (which I probably did just to drive my mother insane and it worked and I gained a wonderful friend besides), or play adults with Emma while our mother slowly went more and more insane (you should see some of the boyfriends she tried to bring around – she's finally settled for a horrible man named Archibald) and I just sort of let Jo slip through the cracks.

That's not to say she was completely ignored and neglected growing up. Emma was the maternal one, filling in where our crazy mother was lacking, which was nearly everywhere. Everything from womanly issues to homework to getting their ears pierced, Emma was there for the girls. But I found myself the one they talked to, particularly Joss. But Jo, who was constantly attempting to prove herself, would coming to me gushing about the Falmouth Falcons (favorite Quidditch team of all of us… except Emma) or asking me what I thought of a band she'd started listening to.

No, I hadn't completely abandoned Jo, but I hadn't made an effort, and that was almost as bad. My father had told Emma and me, before he was killed in the war against Voldemort, that family wouldn't just be there. You had to make an effort while you were young, or you wouldn't have each other when you got older, and family was important. I promised myself that I would do a better job of making an effort with Jo, starting with the World Cup.

I sent off the letters, made myself a cup of tea, and settled in with my notes on an article I was working on. There was nothing tying it all together, and it was completely unimportant and I could just picture the obscure little section they would find to tuck it away in once I finally had it finished and the thought made me want to scream with frustration. I was a good writer, a far better writer than Rita Skeeter. I was top of my class in half the subjects Hogwarts offered, a prefect, a model student. I had so much promise, as everyone, including my mother, had been so keen to point out. Perhaps I really had thrown it all away to go chasing Charlie Weasley, but isn't that what they'd said about him? Throwing away a promising career in Quidditch to go chasing after dragons? Were we so different, really?

Of course we were. Charlie Weasley was wonderful, brilliant, interesting, exotic. I was a boring little former prefect with boring looks, a boring job, and the privilege of being the boring half of every pair I was a part of. The most exciting thing in my life was following Charlie Weasley around. I sighed, setting aside the notes of the sure-to-be-failure article and pulling Tonks's latest letter towards me, scanning it for anything unusual before settling down and reading it in earnest. She liked to tease me about being in Romania, my obsession with Charlie, even my job, but I knew she did it with the best of intentions. She was asking me if I would be coming to the World Cup, or if I would be too busy stalking a certain redhead. She said her mother missed her favorite not-daughter and wanted me to visit if I was going to be in the country, if I wasn't too busy tracking down the home of a certain redhead and stalking him in his natural habitat. I rolled my eyes, ready to write the most sarcastic, annoyed, loving response I could muster to my best friend when an unfamiliar owl swooped in through the window and dropped a little note in front of me and flying right back out of the window.

I frowned, opening the note.

_Valley,_

_It was good to see you today. Sorry about Felix, he's a twit. I really hope you visit the colony. It'd be great to catch up with someone from home. And if you're going back to England for the World Cup, maybe I'll see you there. My dad's managed to get tickets._

_-Charlie_

My hands shook so violently that I nearly ripped the letter in half, but instead, when the words sunk in, I dropped the parchment onto the table, leapt to my feet, and screamed excitedly at the top of my lungs, hopping up and down through my flat hugging everything I could get my hands on, Tonks's letter and the reply I had been formulating lying forgotten beneath that little scrap of parchment that had made my whole miserable existence brighter than I could have ever possibly dreamed.

It was a good day.


	2. Delicate Touch: Emma

I'd always liked being a Healer. I don't know if it was the gratification of saving patients' lives or if it was the fact that I was always dealing with different things every day. For example, yesterday I saved a woman after she was bit by an Acromantula, a man who'd been attacked by a Mountain Troll, and a man who had an infected Doxy bite. Working at the Creature-Induced Injuries Department at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries hadn't always been my first choice. I'd always wanted to be a Healer at St. Mungo's but I'd always thought that I'd work on the Spell Damage floor. Spell Damage was definitely a more glamorous job with less pus, venom, and blood and the Healers that worked there tended to be more arrogant.

Working in the most dangerous department of the hospital had its perks as well as its downside. For example, the hours were the long, the work was hard, and it was messy. The perks were that you saved lives and there was a certain adrenaline rush that came with the line of work. Spell Damage might be glamorous but there isn't the same kind of urgency that comes with Creature-Induced Injuries. They don't have to worry about racing against time to find the right antidote for a venomous bite. I had a more exciting job and that meant that even if I had to do with pus, venom, and blood that would be enough to make me pull myself out of bed each day.

"Emma, Levi Lowery from Artifact Accidents is looking for you," Jane Patch, a balding elderly Healer from my floor, told me as I inched towards the end of my late shift. "This is the third time that he's asked about you today."

I mentally swore. Why did he have to be so persistent? "Again?"

She nodded, "Afraid so, dearie. You might want to talk to him before you leave."

I sighed. I'd already spoken to the bloke four times about how his and I's disastrous date was a one-time only deal. It'd been one of the worst dates I'd ever been on and I never wanted to experience anything remotely similar to it again. If him spilling his drink on me and spending the whole night talking about his different ailments wasn't enough of an indicator that he and I had no chemistry together then his suggestion to take me back to his flat to show me his spider collection was enough of a warning sign.

I tried to lay it on easy with him, telling him that I wasn't ready to have a serious relationship. That didn't work. I tried to tell him that I was thinking about getting back with an old boyfriend but that only made him demand to know who, when, and why. I'd tried the whole "it's not you, it's me" approach but it wasn't working. Maybe the only way to get him to let go was to be brutally honest and cruel but that wasn't my strong suit.

"I'll take care of it," I assured her. "I don't know how yet but I'll figure it out. I'm going on break. I'll be back at nine."

"Tell your mum hi for me," she gave me a playful smirk.

I gave her a small scowl. Everyone on my floor seemed to find it hysterical that I called my mother every time I was on break. It wasn't a personal choice. I just found that it was easier to call her and take a few minutes to reverse whatever damage my younger sisters did on her nerves before she had a chance to stew over it and get even angrier. It was best just to calm her down before she started making mole hills into mountains.

There was a payphone just down the street from the hospital that I often visited. It probably would have been more financial sense for me to actually buy the phone than to pay to use it five days a week. When I began this tradition two summers before I'd assumed that I could stop calling from work every day when my younger sisters, Joss and Jo, went back to school and got out of her hair. When I tried to stop calling, however, she started to panic that I wasn't calling because I was dead in a ditch somewhere. To say the least, I started calling again to stop her from getting an ulcer.

I dialed our home number when I reached the phone box, hoping that this conversation would be quick so that I could get back to dealing with Levi Lowery's schoolboy crush. The phone rang four times before it was finally answered. "Who are you and what do you want?" my ever-so eloquent sister Joss answered grouchily.

"Morning to you too, sunshine," I replied, not feeling too guilty about waking her up when I'd been at work since four in the morning. "Where's Mum?"

"She's having a bit of a Martini Morning," she explained. "I don't know if you really want to talk to her."

I sighed, "Brilliant. Has she tried to force you and Jo into her old wedding dress yet?"

"Uh, not yet. She did have an interesting discussion with the fichus earlier though. I think she was accusing it of stealing one of her shoes," she informed me. "Right now she's pouring over old photographs and lamenting over how old she's gotten."

"Already? That usually takes her at least three. How long has she been drinking?" I questioned, knowing full well that my mother couldn't have just one martini. She generally stopped herself at three but after she hit five then she moved onto the harder liquor, like straight vodka. She usually only drank like a sailor, albeit a lightweight sailor, when she was feeling particularly self-conscious. The last time she had one of her drinking fests when she couldn't fit into an old pair of trousers.

"Dunno. Probably at least an hour or two. It won't be long until she goes for the vodka."

I groaned, "Great. Well you know the routine."

"Yes Emma," she droned, probably rolling her eyes. "I distract her, pour half the bottle down the sink and dilute it with water."

"And then?" I pressed.

"And then I keep her preoccupied until you can get here with a Sleeping Draught," she finished as if I were quizzing her about something as mundane as the properties of Valerian Root.

"Exactly. I'll be there in two hours, okay? She might already fall asleep before then. I need you to try to distract her from the bottle. Ask her to tell you a story or something, okay?"

"Nah, I'm going to tell her that Jo wants to try on her old wedding dress but she's too shy to ask herself."

I groaned, "Jocelyn, be nice to your sister."

"Don't call me 'Jocelyn'!"

"Well then don't pick on your sister," I retorted.

"I thought you wanted me to keep Mum out of trouble."

"I do but –"

"Well then there you go. I'll see you in two hours. Bye." She hung up the phone without another word.

I muttered under my breath, setting the phone back on the hook. Sometimes I really wished that I was an only child.

I trudged back to work, unexcited with the idea that I still had to turn Levi down for the fourth time that day. Merlin, that bloke was thick. If he and I didn't have to see each other at the hospital all the time then I'd just tell him how I felt without holding back. No, that's not true. I could never be that brutal in a break up, even though Levi and I weren't technically dating. Once when I was just out of school I had a boyfriend named Owen Kayser and we lasted almost six weeks. When I finally broke up with him he cried. He cried! I never wanted to ever go through that experience ever again. That was probably why I had a tendency to be a little overly nice when I rejected people. It had a tendency to make people think that I didn't actually mean that I had no interest in them though. I mean, apparently since whenever a woman's nice to a bloke it means that she's carrying romantic feelings toward him. I thought that being nice to someone was just good manners but apparently I'd been living a lie.

"Emma!" Levi greeted me like some sort of alert puppy as I walked into the building. "I've been looking for you everywhere! Jane told me that you were on break so I figured that I'd wait for you here until you got back! How's your mum doing? I've heard that there's Dragon Pox going around and the elderly are much more susceptible to it."

"My mother is only in her forties," I informed him bluntly. "Besides, she's a Muggle. Her exposure to Dragon Pox is pretty limited."

"Well yeah but you could be a carrier. You never know what kind of bacteria you bring home after working here all day, especially on your floor. Just try not to get sick, okay? I don't mind nursing you back to health but I'd rather that it's not necessary," he told me cheerfully. "I work mostly with cauldron explosion and misbehaving broomsticks so I might be a little rusty at it but I'd try for you."

I felt like I was about to kick a puppy. He had big, sincere brown eyes looking at me as if I was a squeaky toy that he cherished. "Levi, I – We can't – You and I work together. We might not work on the same floor but it's still a small hospital."

"It's the biggest wizarding hospital in all of Britain," he pointed out brightly.

"But not big enough for me to get involved in an interoffice relationship," I managed to tell him, feeling more and more guilty with each word. "I don't want to risk making the workplace awkward in case things don't work out. It's not personal. I'm just not comfortable dating anyone from the hospital."

His change in expression was a lot like a deflating balloon. "Oh okay. I – I understand. No hard feelings."

I almost let out a sigh of relief that he didn't cry. "Thanks for understanding," I told him sincerely. "I should get back to work. I'll see you around."

"Yeah sure," he nodded, his usual exuberance gone. "See you."

I didn't need to be waved off twice. I took the opportunity to rush back to work, glad that I managed to get out of that situation rather unscathed. I threw myself back into my work, hoping that if I appeared busy that Jane wouldn't question me about how either my phone call or my talk with Levi had gone. I didn't really like to talk about my mother's fascination with martinis. It just wasn't information that I wanted to share with the world. It wasn't like she was always drunk. It just happened sometimes. I didn't really want to admit how awful I'd been at letting Levi down either. She might have been old enough to be my great grandmother but she was a lot like Joss in the sense that once she found something amusing she never let it go.

My last two hours of work finished rather quickly and I was soon Apparating back to my mother's. I'd moved out of my childhood home after Healing training and got a flat close to the hospital but I always seemed to be spending more time at my mum's than I did at my own place.

When I walked into the house my mother was on the floor of the parlor, surrounded by a stack of old photographs of her youth and several of dresses that she used to wear to dinner parties years before. Joss was watching her on the sofa, looking irritated with her pity party.

"Mum?" I questioned cautiously, stepping carefully into the parlor. "Mum, what's wrong?"

"I'm just so old!" she complained, bursting into a set of sobs.

I looked at Joss for some sort of further explanation for our mother's distress. She only shrugged. She'd never particularly been very patient with our mum when she got like this. "Mum, you're not old," I tried to tell her, hoping that I didn't make the matter worse.

She hiccupped, giving me a dubious look through her tears, "Oh really? Do you know how old I'm turning this year? Do you know? _Forty-four!" _She hissed her upcoming age as if it were some sort of disgusting secret.

"Forty-four? Really? Well, damn, you're practically ancient. We should probably just euthanize you now to put you out of your misery," Joss drawled, rolling her eyes.

I gave her a pointed look, "Get out."

"Fine," she threw her arms up in self-defense. "Just let me know if you hear from Val about when she's coming in to see the World Cup."

My mother's eyes slit and I knew that Joss had said the wrong thing but she was gone before I could chastise her for upsetting our mum. "That's all she bleeding talks about! 'Quidditch this' and 'Quidditch that'! She might not have said the 'Q' word but I know that's what she's talking about! You'd have thought that after your father died that you'd have given up on this whole magic thing!"

"Mum, Dad died so we'd have a right to have this 'whole magic thing'," I reminded her. "He worked to promote the right of people with non-magical parents to get to learn and practice magic. To have given up on it would have been disrespectful to his memory."

"Well you could have at least got a normal job! You should have been a doctor, Emma! Not some 'Healer' who shoves magical potions down people's throats! You should have gone to school like a respectable member of society!" she exclaimed, reaching for her empty martini glass. "You should have gone to a university! It's bad enough that Valerie decided to move to Romania because she fancied a holiday!"

"Mum, Val didn't go to Romania for a holiday," I told her, tired of her never-ending ranting about my younger sister's career choice.

"Oh, really? Then why'd she leave? It's not like there aren't any positions for journalists closer to home! Why she'd go all the way to Romania then? Just to fry my nerves?"

The answer was simple. Charlie Weasley. She'd left England to go to Romania because Charlie got himself a job at a dragon colony there. Wherever he went, she followed. It was just like back in school when she'd became a Quidditch commentator because he played Quidditch. He might not have necessarily known that she was alive but that didn't stop her from following him across Europe. It's not like I could tell my mum the real reason she'd left though. He never would have met her standards. They were relatively simple standards. First, they had to be a Muggle. Second, they had to be rich. Third, they had to dreadfully boring. He was a wizard, his family was dirt poor and he worked with dragon. He definitely didn't meet any of her standards.

"Why don't we get you to bed? Archibald is supposed to come get you for dinner tonight," I tried to distract her woes by bringing up her date with her boyfriend. Archibald, or rather Baldie as my sisters and I secretly called him, was the first boyfriend she'd had since my father died. I didn't necessarily like him but I welcomed the distraction in my mum's life to make her a little more civil. Joss, however, hated him like he was the inventor of the Plague. Val had yet to meet him since she'd been out of the country when mum and he started dating and Jo seemed to tolerate him at least. When he was around I just had to keep Joss from doing anything to him, especially since she was legally allowed to do magic since she'd turned seventeen in May.

She nodded, "I could probably do with a little sleep. You know, sleep deprivation leads to crow's feet."

I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes, "Mum, you don't have crow's feet. Women twenty years younger than you would be lucky to be as pretty as you are." It wasn't necessarily a lie but it wasn't true either. She'd been quite pretty once but, even though her drinking was sporadic, it was still frequent enough to take a toll on her appearance. Between raising four girls mostly on her own and the drinking, she definitely looked her age if not older. "You should probably redo your roots though."

She raised a hand in horror to her hair where her natural brown hair was beginning to peek through her dye job. She raced towards the stairs, all signs of previous alcohol-use gone. I shook my head after her, glad that Val would be coming in the next few days to take a bit of our mum's attention away from me. I just had to survive the next few days until she arrived, which was looking harder than I wanted to admit.


	3. Letter to Val: Joss

**A/N Joss chapter 3 **

I sat on the couch and looked over at my mother, who was mindlessly chatting on the phone with her boyfriend. _Again_. I swear she talked non-stop to the man every day. I would say the relationship probably wasn't healthy, but then again it was my mother, so I can't say I expect anything else.

Jo was lying on the other end of the couch, a hand-made construction paper fan waving frantically at her face. The air conditioner broke last night, which I still adamantly deny was my fault in any way shape or form. If my mother hadn't rearranged the living room _again_ without telling me, I wouldn't have tripped over the bloody coffee table in the middle of the night when I wanted a drink and I wouldn't have flown into the damned air conditioner and shoved it out the window into the Azalea bush.

She was watching something stupid though on the telly and her eyes were glued to it. There was some annoying blonde on there, shrieking about a monster and a werewolf, or what I think was supposed to be a werewolf, came crashing out of the forest. I scoffed.

Jo turned her eyes to glare at me.

"Shut up, Joss. It's a good movie."

"No it's not. Anyone can see that that's not real."

"It's a movie. It's not supposed to be real."

I shook my head.

"How can I sit here and enjoy a film when that's not even remotely close to what a werewolf looks like?"

"How would you even know?"

"Despite what you may think, little sister, I do in fact pay attention in class."

She raised a doubtful eyebrow my way and I rolled my eyes, conceding.

"Alright, _sometimes_ I pay attention in _some_ classes."

This time she rolled her eyes and our mum gave a high pitched giggle, which meant she was still on the phone but could hear our conversation and she was about to start having heart palpitations.

"Honestly, Mum…"

"We're just talking about a film. Don't have an ulcer."

Our mother gave us each a look. Sometimes I swear, the looks she gives me could slice and dice a Hippogriff in a second. She must give me five of those looks before breakfast. I don't even need to do anything I just have to breathe in her general direction and it's like I've committed a capital offence sometimes. Sometimes I get one of the looks and if I mention Quidditch she turns red at the same time. It's a spectacular sight. Like the time she saw me levitate on my new broom in the kitchen when I turned seventeen I got a look, and she turned from red to purple. It was like watching a fireworks display, they were such beautiful colors.

"Oh? Well Archibald that would be just wonderful!" she cooed.

I bugged my eyes and made a gagging noise and Jo sniggered.

"We'd just love to have dinner. You don't spend nearly enough time with the girls! They're always saying how they want to get to know you better!"

I swear to Merlin in the great beyond time stopped. A chill went through the air and this time my eyes did actually bug out of my head. Jo met my eyes, just as wide as my own and time restarted. I launched off the couch. No. I was not, under any circumstances, meeting this man for dinner and pretending I actually tolerated him.

"I'm not going!" I screamed and ran up the stairs, slamming my bedroom door.

I raked my hands through my hair and heaved a frustrated sigh. This woman was going to be the death of me. I've never given her any mixed signals, no indication I wanted anything to do with her relationships. I never liked any of the men she tried to bring home. Not once and Archibald was no different. I still remember the look on her face when boyfriend number three had come up the walk one night to pick her up and I was sitting with one leg out my bedroom window, dropping water balloons filled with bright colored paint onto him. I was even luckier when I noticed he was wearing some fancy looking suit. Needless to say, he didn't come back again and Emma lectured me for a good hour but it was worth it. I tried with Archibald, I really did. But he either never noticed the things I did to try and run him off or laughed it off as some child prank. What a complete, sodding idiot, honestly.

There was a tapping at my window and for a moment I narrowed my eyes, thinking it was that twit from school sending another letter. Honestly, after the fifth one I didn't reply to, I'd think he'd get the hint. But then I remembered his owl was apparently as dumb as him and tended to crash into my window, not tap on it.

When I let it in I nearly did a jig or something equally as ridiculous. It's not like my big sister Val never wrote. She wrote me all the time. Being in Romania it took a little longer to correspond but still. She'd definitely understand if I went off in a letter about how I was going to kill Archibald just to avoid this whole dinner fiasco.

Currently she wrote to me about Romania, and the article she was working on and the weather and such. What caught my interest was the part about Charlie Weasley. Val had graduated Hogwarts and became a journalist, some correspondent for the Daily Prophet. When we found out Charlie Weasley had moved to Romania to work on some Dragon reserve, I wasn't completely surprised to see her move out there with him. If there's one thing Val is, it's a romantic. She's a hopeless romantic, really. Charlie's never given her the time of day, but I still applaud her determination. She's going after what she wants, so how can I fault her for that? And she had just had a whole conversation with the bloke and wrote me. Obviously I had to write back.

_To my sweet dippy lovebird of a sister, _

_How's lovers paradise over there? Married with tots yet? No? Don't worry; it will all come with time. Does Charlie still speak English, or has he been around the dragons so much he just sort of hisses and roars? I hear language barriers can be difficult in a relationship. Persevere! _

_So how long have you been in Romania now and you're only just talking to him now? I know this concept might be a tad bit bizarre to you, but you have to actually let the person know when you fancy them. Otherwise you're going to be an old, bitter woman with seven hundred cats all named Charlie. Couldn't you have figured out where he hangs around outside the reservation? And don't roll your eyes and blush like it's a stupid idea – the woman who moves countries following a bloke she's barely talked to is not allowed to throw stones. Besides, I'm pretty sure you're the most skilled stalker in this whole entire family. I'm sure you could pull it off. _

_Speaking of this family, it's insane. Mum's still going strong with Archie. Rather unfortunate really. I've tried everything short of murder to get rid of him and that option is becoming increasingly more necessary. She's just invited us all to dinner with him, Val. She told him we wanted to spend more time with him. How many lies can one relationship take, I'm just curious? Do you think she's some sort of pathological liar, like we should get her into some rehab program, you think? I can't even keep up with all these stories she's telling any- _

_Jo's rummaging around in my room. Hold on. _

_Hi, Val! How's Romania? I have to go, Joss is just about finished finding her wand and unlocking her door to come back in- _

_She's a right bother, isn't she? Just comes in here like she owns the damn place and locks me out of my own room – the nerve – and starts writing in my own letter. Children these days have no respect for their elders, I tell you. _

_So, you're coming back for the Cup, yeah? I can't wait to go, really. It's going to be wicked! I mean, Krum is playing. He's a great big lug of a man. I think he honestly doesn't have a mind in there, he looks confused in a lot of his pictures, but he's a good Seeker, yeah? The Irish have heart though. They know how to play the game. Bulgarians are brutes but…that makes the matches more fun, you know? _

_Do you have any idea when we'd be getting there? I'm serious when I say if I have to get up at some unholy hour I will kill someone. The sun has to at least be up, Val, c'mon! Emma's talking crazy when she says we're leaving at the crack of dawn or something like that. Who wants to do that? Did you hear Tonks is sharing our portkey? I wonder what it's going to be. I'm not holding onto some old pair of trousers that haven't been washed in three centuries. _

_I was so excited when I saw you'd written. Your owl got here and for a moment I thought it was this bloke from school – but thank Merlin and Morgana it wasn't. I don't think I could deal with that on top of Mum's mental problems. Honestly, a dinner with Archibald. Can you imagine? You have to come. I can't go in there by myself, just me and Jo. Emma will probably show. You can't not go. Though, if I were in your position, I'd say I couldn't come home just for a dinner._

_I have to go. Mum's yelling about something. Isn't she always shouting? Shouldn't she have lost her voice by now? Probably not, the woman can't be human. There's something wrong with her. _

_Love you lots. Have fun in Romania. TALK TO CHARLIE. Drink, chat, hang out with him. _

_Don't do anything I wouldn't do! See you soon! _

_Love, Joss _


	4. Dog Days: Jo

Dog Days: Jo

_Love is a Battlefield_ Chapter 4

"Mum, I think you should sleep now."

"Don't be silly, Jo," my mother hiccuped. "I'm perfectly fine."

"But you stayed up all night again with Mr. Loddington and got up so early this morning to make us such a lovely brekkie that I'm worried you didn't get enough beauty sleep." She loved it when one of us girls called Baldie "Mr. Loddington." It was imagined respect to placate the ugly truth that none of us really respected him at all.

Mum blinked blearily as she sat across from me at the kitchen table. There was a vague haze pervading the area still, a result of her horrendously burning the attempted porridge. She had come home late last night (or rather very early this morning) and collapsed on the sofa. That didn't stop her, however, from waking me and a very angry Joss at 6am, saying we ought to have a family breakfast "like old times" because we were "her darling girls." Dodging punches and literally dragging Joss down the stairs, with surprising strength my mother had planted us both at our white kitchen table and proceeded to shove lukewarm tea and blackened oat grain at us. At some point, I had to unearth the fire extinguisher in reaction to an aborted attempt at eggs, Joss had fallen back asleep while sitting up (a talent she had perfected in the back of her classrooms fourth year), and Mum had plopped down with a tequila bottle, eyes leaking tears at how much we had "grown up" and "why did we have to go to that nasty school." Obviously she was still drunk. If the Jesus could turn water into wine, could I, a witch, turn tequila into water?

Since I would probably need my wand for that, the plan was to send her back to bed.

"I do want to look like my pictures again," she said, rubbing her fingers against the bags under her eyes. She sniffled. "I think my bags are getting bigger. Oh, god!" She buried her head in her arms.

I sighed inwardly, but outwardly placed a comforting hand on her elbow. "It's okay, Mum. We love you and Mr. Loddington loves you, doesn't he? Didn't he comment on how beautiful you look yesterday? Let's go to bed." Baldie had and rather loudly commented, almost sounding he was trying to convince everyone else and himself of its truth. At Emma's urging, Mum had dyed her roots to the almost blinding blonde again, but she was far from a supermodel in her faded, Victorian nightgown.

I walked around the table and put my hands under her armpits. "Come on, Mum. Sleepy time. Everything looks better after a sleep. You tell us that all the time, don't you?" She had, a long time ago.

"You're right, Jo." She wiped her eyes and let me frog march her back upstairs to her room. "My darling girls, I did say that to you. It was comforting, wasn't it? It was good advice, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Mum. It was good advice and you're beautiful." I put her down on the bed and tucked covers on her chin.

"My darling girls," she muttered and reached to put a hand on my head. "Such good girls."

I slipped from her grasp and tip-toed out. At times like these, I felt sorry for my mother. But only these times. Our dad had died in the First War against You-Know-Who, 18 June 1981. I had been only three years old, but the date so affected my other sisters, so affected their idea of this family that the date stuck in my head. Mum, apparently, was happier before. But she had married someone who was now gone, her daughters did this magic thing she didn't want to understand, and her insecurity issues could drown the Royal Navy. Talk about high maintenance. I can't even imagine her as a girlfriend. She turned into a drinker, cut her daughters off from all magical contacts (almost violently as in the case of the Weasleys), and her own mood swings gave us all quite the childhood. Thank Merlin for Hogwarts.

Speaking of Hogwarts: O.W.L.s. I'd gotten them last week, not that Mum understood or cared, but Emma and Val were pleased. I'd gotten O's in Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, E's in Herbology, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and Astronomy, and an A in History of Magic (because it was beyond me how to stay awake during that class and Joss had taught me how to sleep sitting up). The marks weren't as good as Val's, but she had been a Hufflepuff prefect. I didn't really care about being a Gryffindor prefect, though it would have been nice last year. Oh well. I'd gotten too many detentions anyway.

I shook myself as I went back downstairs to the kitchen, finding Joss grumbling about making proper tea. She plunked a mug down in front of me and shuffled back to her chair, all the while muttering under her breath something that sounded like variations of "pissing bloody wanker."

I'd only just sat down when a tapping came at the kitchen door window and I looked up to see the _Prophet_ owl. It was a nice reminder that the magical world existed in the doldrums of our summer. I hated that I was still underage, but I only had one year left. Then world, watch out! My precious wand wouldn't be locked up in some useless trunk in my room...

I scampered up to the owl and took the paper, patting the animal on the head before it flew off. We had already paid for this month's issue of _Prophets_ so the bothering about coins was unneeded. I carried the paper back to the table, reading Val's article first and then working my way to the front, passing my finished pages to a still barely coherent Joss. At some point I made us both toast with jam.

The _Prophet_ had tons of news about the Cup. The Weird Sisters were aiming to have a mini-concert with some Silencing Charms around their tent area. Ludo Bagman was going to be the commentator. Val'll get a kick out of that. Ugh, I'm worried one of my teachers will be there. Can you imagine McGonagall at professional Quidditch? She'll go red with apoplexy at all the indecent behavior. And Dumbledore will be wrapped up in earmuffs, scarves, mittens, and socks, knowing him, liking any excuse to wear wool. Can you imagine Professor Snape? Now that would be awkward. I was reasonably good at Potions, considering my O in the subject, but I was a Gryffindor and Snape, while not outright ridiculing me, would only sniff at my correct creations. One time during First Year I got 5 points for our House for a hair growth serum. It was downright legendary. What do teachers do during summer holidays anyway? Polish up the Hogwarts knights' armor? Devise new detentions? Skydive from the Astronomy Tower? Sounds incredibly boring. Good thing the Cup is here to liven things up for them.

"Hey Joss," I said, coming up with an idea. "Who do you reckon will win the Cup?"

"The Irish, obviously," she snapped. "Why do you ask?"

"I bet Bulgaria will win." Joss bristled like a porcupine at this. "They've got Krum! He's a brilliant Seeker!"

"But as empty as a pumpkin! Have you seen this picture? He's walking like a duck!" She shoved a photograph of a semi-lost looking Krum in the _Prophet_.

I scowled. "Flying is different than walking and I'm sure he has the usual amount of intelligence. Probably got more O's than you."

"They don't do O.W.L.s in Bulgaria, smart one."

"Oh really? Well, let's make a bet. I bet a galleon Bulgaria will win the Cup."

"You're on, little sister. And Krum will probably fall on his big ducky arse and-"

There was a slamming noise against the window.

Both our heads snapped up at the sound: an unfamiliar owl was throwing itself at the glass, trying to get into our kitchen. Joss jumped up and opened the door. "Stupid bird'll kill itself one of these days."

"Who's owl is that?" I asked. It wasn't one my sisters typically used. No one at Hogwarts really wrote to me. An owl for Emma would go to her flat and Val was scheduled to arrive today. It might be for her, but Joss was nearly strangling the creature in an effort to get it to calm down, her face growing steadily redder. Must be for Joss.

I jumped over and snatched the letter out from under the owl, which Joss immediately dropped onto the kitchen tiles. "Give me my letter!" she shouted.

"Who's it from, big sister?" I said as I danced away, running out of the kitchen and around the lower story of our house with Joss in hot pursuit and screeching after me. I opened the letter as I ran and spied the name at the bottom. I nearly stopped in my tracks. "_Fred Weasley!_"

"Give it back, gnome-scuttler! Don't read it or I'll make you disappear like Bertha Jorkins! Fucking flying whizzer-bang!"

The knowledge that Fred Weasley, _the _Fred Weasley was writing to her and the sound of the vaguely familiar name made me trip over the corner of the sofa and Joss tackled me the rest of the way to the floor, sitting up on my legs and pinning me to the floor with her arms. She was breathing heavily and snarled, "Give. Me. My. Letter."

Since I had a vested interest in keeping all my teeth, I waggled it at her with what movement I had in my wrist. She released me, snatched the letter, and pulled a lock of my strawberry blonde hair in retaliation before sitting on my legs to read it.

I lay there because provoking Joss anymore would be a hazard to my health. What was Fred Weasley doing writing to my sister? The Twins were in my year and my year was all the better for it, the duo making any unbearable class bearable. Their pranking was absolutely brilliant and sometimes they let Joss and I tag along in their adventures: one memorable 'venture was into the Forbidden Forest where things had gone a bit pear-shaped with the centaurs and a huge spider, but it was one of the best days of my life. For the life of me though, I couldn't tell them apart. It was embarrassing. You'd think always being "the youngest Wilde sister" and constantly being compared to either (rarely) Emma, (sometimes) Val, or (mostly) Joss would give me some ability to distinguish the indistinguishable, but nope. The other girls at Hogwarts like Katie Bell or Angelina Johnson could tell them apart no problem. And they particularly gushed over Fred for some reason. Even though the Twins were identical, he was "more handsome and dashing," "more daring," and will really "go for you." Was Fred going for Joss?

It was silent as Joss quickly read her letter. When she finished, she snorted, muttered "the twit" under her breath, crumpled up the paper, and threw the ball in the direction of the rubbish bin. It looked to be too short, but then the ball floated farther, neatly landing in the center of the bin. Wandless Magic.

"It's so cool when you do that," I said, genuinely impressed. "I wish we could do more without wands. It would be so convenient for the underage."

"You've got to practice, little sister." Joss seemed to have forgotten to be angry at me, pleased at the praise and distracted by Fred.

She stood and as she helped me up I asked, "Who's Bertha Jorkins?"

She smirked. "Don't you read? It was in the paper recently. She's a Ministry official working for the Department of Magical Games and Sports and she's gone missing in Albania. Val wrote about it. Good thing Val's coming here for the Cup. Then she can't get eaten by anything freaky and end up on some slab Emma works on. Maybe Val should stick to writing about Quidditch."

"You know she doesn't just write about Quidditch."

"But what if she did?"

"Then she wouldn't be near Albania."

"Exactly."

I pouted a bit, but then brightened. "Speaking of the Cup, we're supposed to pack the food, right?"

Joss looked at me sideways. "Yeah," she said slowly. Her dark hair was sticking up a bit, ruffled up in places and her pajama bottoms had seen much better days. A patch had torn out in our scuffle and Emma would have sneak the pajamas away to fix it at some point. At 16, I was the only one that was still underage, but Joss didn't really care about fixing clothes, saying it was fine as it was. But now her amber eyes were staring at me.

I grinned. "Then we should of course pack the food. You know, the right food."

A grin grew on her to match mine. "Oh yes, the _right _food. The _good _and _healthy_ food."

And suddenly we were friends again, practically twins despite our phenotypic differences. We had always been close, our birthdays only a year different. Emma and Val were separated by only two years and they were a closer as well, the two parents to take care of us when our Mum failed (which was often). Joss grabbed my hand and led me upstairs, descending on our secret horde of sweets. We made baskets out of the bottom of shirts and filled them up, racing back downstairs to the kitchen to dump them on the table. She then ran upstairs to get her wand and I dragged the tent and general food box (labeled in duct tape and Sharpie in Emma's spiky yet even letters).

Joss tumbled into the room right after I did, carrying both our clothes packs, her wand in her mouth, and clouds of brightly colored candies floated after her. "Did you bring down the whole horde?" I said. Whoa, we had a lot of candy. I guess sweet teeth run in the family.

She spit her wand onto the table. "The Cup could last months, Jo! Months. Ireland needs to beat your Bulgarian lizards properly!"

"Krum's going to win it!" I was trying to be serious, but soon we both laughed.

Joss cast a charm to make the food box feather-light, and our rucksacks and we set to work. Banter about the Cup continued, but was eventually replaced with vocal thoughts on packing as much of our favorite foods into the magically weightless sacks and boxes as possible. First, our favorite Muggle candies were stashed mostly in our packs, layering the circular levels with Cadbury and jammie dodgers, jars of Nutella and Peanut Butter, lemon biscuits and vanilla-frosted cakes, marshmallows and graham crackers. The Wizard sweets, which we had less of, made appearances: chocolate frogs (Emma's favorite and therefore placed towards the top in order to placate her), Bertie Bots Every Flavor Beans, pumpkin pasties, licorice wands, and citrus bombs (refresh the air and your tongue!). To drink there was milk, tea, water bottles, sugary soda, and lemonade: pretty tame, considering. We hadn't managed to transport butterbeer from Hogsmeade.

After packing all that, we blended vanilla shakes and cooked magically-to-be-kept-warm cheesesteaks, Joss bellowing that if I packed one more thing of sandwich meat and cheese she would toss me off the top of the Stadium. There were hot dogs, spaghetti with tiny delicious meatballs, Top Ramen, sweet & sour pork, chicken tikka, mushroom stroganoff, and stew from a Muggle can. We even got dressed enough to fetch haddock fish and chips from the corner for lunch, also buying some for the trip. Joss ended up also having to cast an feather-light charm on the cooler as well as conjuring more ice from the tap water.

"Do you remember a spell that keeps the ice from melting?"

"Uh...inmelto?" She waved her wand at the ice, which sat wetly, almost glaring at us for our gall in trying to defy physics. She frowned. "Maybe we can ask Val. We did pack all that cheese for her."

"You packed what for me?"

We both jumped a foot in the air, Joss sending a red spark towards the sound that Val bounced away almost immediately as she stepped through the kitchen door, flicking the lacy curtains out of her small, pretty face. Her brown hair was longer than I remembered, her bangs grown out and almost reaching her hazel eyes. We both tackled her into a hug immediately.

"Val!" we sang in unison, still gripping her waist. "We packed cheese for you!"

"That's nice," she laughed. "I'm a bit frightened of _what else_ you packed."

We let her go and Joss answered, "Oh, nothing dangerous." She grinned wickedly, her mood buoyant.

"The weirdest was chocolate-covered blood pops."

"Better than licorice dipped in vanilla."

"Ew, no. Those are both gross," said Val, chucking what looked like half a moldy plastic belt into the bin, and dumping her packs next to our bulging ones and making herself tea and eyeing the mess of the kitchen. "Why would Emma even let you touch the packing? Did you pack real food too?"

"Obviously," I said. "You packed the exact kind of food you need to watch the 422nd Championship of the only proper Wizarding Sport. Krum's going to beat them bloody."

Joss snorted. "The Irish are going to bury him in his own Quidditch robes."

Val turned towards us with her mug of tea and leaned against the counter, an eyebrow raised at our betting. "Did you pack energy drinks?"

Joss and I looked at each other. Again in unison, we said: "we need to go to Tesco."


	5. Quidditch World Cup: Val

**A/N: Val's POV**

I woke up at the crack of dawn. We would have to get to our portkey in about an hour, which mean that I had to start waking up Joss right away while Emma woke up Jo and got breakfast ready. We would leave before our mother woke up, which was sort of the idea in the first place.

I pulled my hair into a quick bun for the morning, knowing that I could always do myself up for the game later. Dealing with Joss in the mornings was more of a functionality before beauty sort of deal. I went quickly through my closet, found some green running shorts, a pair of black leggings, and a light green t-shirt. I dug around for a bit for a jacket and found the black leather jacket Joss had gotten me when Tonks and I announced that we were starting a rock band. She'd told me that every proper lead singer needed a proper leather jacket.

When I'd dressed I rushed down the hall to begin coaxing Joss awake, passing Jo and Emma in the hallway, rubbing their eyes and mumbling morning greetings. Jo appeared to be heading for a quick shower and Emma was putting her hair up and trudging toward the kitchen.

I knocked on the door to Joss's room but there was no answer.

"Joss," I said in a coaxing voice. "Wakey-wakey."

Half an hour, a bucket of ice water, and one fist-fight later, Joss was awake, dressed, and ready to quickly scarf down the breakfast Emma had laid out for us while Jo finished packing our things.

"You didn't forget the rucksacks?" I called as softly as I could.

"Got 'em!" Jo called. "Where's the tent?"

"In my sack," Emma hissed. "Joss, use your fork, not your fingers."

Joss grumbled something unintelligible but begrudgingly picked up her fork out of respect for Emma and within fifteen minutes we were packed, fed, and ready to go, trotting through London at the quickest pace we could muster so early in the morning, anxious to get to our portkey on time.

Tonks was waiting for us when we got there, waving anxiously at us and surrounding a raggedy sweater with a small gaggle of middle-aged men who began chatting us up in a chipper way while we all touched the sweater, counting down the seconds until the Portkey was activated.

"They've been up since midnight," Tonks informed us cheerily. "That's why they're so awake."

"What's your excuse?" Joss growled.

"I'm naturally perky, darling," Tonks teased. "It's a gift."

"Let me take that gift and shove it up your-"

"Here we go," Emma said, just having a fraction of a second to spare Joss a glare before the portkey transported us to the moor where the campsites were for the Quidditch World Cup. Basil directed us to the campsites and we parted ways with Tonks, going to set up our tent for the night after the match was over.

"Do you think it'll go a week?" Jo said excitedly.

"I hope not," Emma moaned. "I don't want to camp like a Muggle for a week. It was bad enough doing it in the yard when we were kids."

"Can we go look around?" Joss as eagerly, ignoring the masked reference to her sticking marshmallow's to a sleeping Jo's face when we were children and thinking it was a brilliant idea.

"Behave," Emma sighed. "If you can manage that, you can go."

Joss and Jo exchanged excited expressions before rushing off.

Emma and I managed to get the campsite more or less set up in a couple of hours between the two of us, even without using magic.

"I'll need some water for making lunch," Emma sighed. "Do you think you can get some while I straighten it out? I've got the map of the campgrounds here..."

"Yeah, sure," I said absently, grabbing a bucket and the map and absently wandering away in the direction that I thought I'd seen a water faucet. I found myself, surprisingly, wandering to the end of the campground, probably passing a faucet and not realizing.

"Val?"

I whirled around to find what looked like the whole Weasley clan sitting down with Bartemius Crouch from the Ministry.

"Charlie!" I said, hoping not to sound too eager. "How are you?"

"Good, good!" he said, motioning for me to take his seat. I waved the offer off, aware that I was probably blushing. "And you? How's life now that you're back in England?"

I laughed a bit.

"I've probably been here as long as you have," I countered. "But it's fine. I've not gotten nearly enough sleep, but..."

"Bill, you remember Val, right?" Charlie said happily. "Valerie Wilde. You went to school with-"

"Emma," Bill said quickly, looking me over before looking at the ground. "Yeah," he finally continued. "I remember Val, vaguely. You were a prefect, right?"

"Were you really?" Arthur said cheerfully, smiling at me like I was his own child he was so proud of. "Your father would have been thrilled. I suppose your mother was thrilled?"

"In her way, I suppose," I laughed. My mother was very happy that I'd been recognized, but she was less than thrilled that I'd 'thrown it all away' to run off to Romania. But I wasn't about to say that in front of Charlie.

"Valerie Wilde," Barty Crouch said thoughtfully. "You're the Eastern European correspondent."

"Yes, sir," I said, more surprised than anything that someone actually knew who I was because of my work.

"The work you did on the conditions existing between vampires and wizard communities in the Black Forest was quite good," Crouch said approvingly, which caused Percy Weasley to perk up.

"Oh, I read that one, sir," he said sycophantically. "It captured the issues quite well."

"Been to the Black Forest recently, have you?" I chided dryly. "Anyway, yes, thank you, sir. I worked very hard on that piece. It's hard enough getting a decent page placement in my part of the world, but on an issue like that, it's about ten times harder."

"I'm sure it was brilliant," Charlie said happily. "She's brilliant."

I blinked.

Not long ago he'd completely forgotten who I was. Now he was saying everything I did was brilliant?

"Well, I have to be getting back," I said honestly. "Emma's going to need help with making lunch, and I know the girls aren't going to be any help at all."

The twins perked up at this.

"Joss and Jo are here?" one of them asked.

"Yeah," I said slowly.

What was it with Weasley boys? Between the drama with Emma and Bill, whatever was going on with Charlie and I, and the apparent interest the twins had in our Irish twins, we were like our own soap opera.

"Anyway," I sighed, "maybe I'll see you at the game or something. Have a great lunch."

Before anything else strange or embarrassing could happen, I made a quick but polite getaway and headed back to the campsite, grabbing some water on the way, and helping Emma set up the campfire when I got back.

"That took a while," Emma said as Joss and Jo sat down. "What took you so long, Val?"

"Oh, I ran into the Weasleys," I said as casually as possible.

"Ooo, was Charles there?" Joss teased.

"Shut up and eat your soup," I snapped, fully aware that I was blushing, but I preferred to think about the way he'd smiled when he told Barty Crouch that I was brilliant. Did he really think that about me, or was he just being nice?

Making our way over to the pitch was an ordeal in and of itself. Joss was whining that we were walking too slow, Jo complained that we were going too fast, and by the time we got there they were both complaining that we were too high up in the stadium. I had to agree with them on that one, we were practically in the top of the absolutely massive stadium, but they were the only tickets Emma and I had been able to afford when we pooled our money together. This was one thing our mother would absolutely not help with, unlike Emma's first rent payment on her apartment. I actually think she was rather put out that Emma hadn't needed her after that at all.

The game was great, although I found myself a bit bored because all Quidditch matches had a strict "Val doesn't get to speak" rule. I tended to commentate, or rather fix the commentary that the actual commentators did. Not that I had anything against Ludo Bagman... Except the fact that he was a Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps when they annihilated my Falmouth Falcons back in the eighties, but... well, other than that he was probably a perfectly nice guy.

Instead, I was using the omnoculars Jo bought me to search the stands for the Weasleys.

You would think that finding a whole gaggle of redheads would be easy, but as Ireland was playing it was actually a lot tougher than I had expected. After quite a long search, I found out they were actually, shockingly, in the Minister's box. Charlie was sitting there by Harry Potter, eagerly watching the game. He looked so excited that suddenly the whole atmosphere was brightened.

Even from the distance, with how great the zoom was, I could see the scars from his job, the freckles on his face, and I could even replay his grin over and over and over and...

He took his omnoculars, I thought to the game, except they seemed to be looking for something. I was admiring the strength of his neck when I realized that his omnoculars had stopped and they seemed to be pointing... At me?

I looked around us.

No, he was probably looking at someone else. A lot of his old schoolmates were just a couple of rows over.

I hesitantly lifted the omnoculars to my eyes once more and he was still looking in my general direction. I blushed, dropping the omnoculars to my lap, watching the match instead on the large screen, too nervous that he might happen upon me and see me staring at him.

"I'm getting something to eat," I said quickly, before my sisters could get on me for talking, and I put down my omnoculars, heading down the long trudge to concessions.

I wasn't actually hungry and so I didn't actually know what I wanted. The line was pretty long anyway, so I hung back, looking at the concessions stand. It crossed my mind to go find Tonks, say hi, but she was hanging out with some people from work and I didn't want to intrude on that.

"Hey," I heard a voice say behind me. I jumped clumsily and fell right into said person's arms.

Said person happened to be Charlie Weasley, and he was grinning at me.

I thought I'd died and gone to heaven, and it took all the presence of mind I possessed not to just hang out there in his arms, grinning up at him like an idiot.

That would have been less than attractive.

I straightened myself out and chuckled nervously.

"Hey," I said. "That was my bad. I'm a bit klutzy."

"That's fine," he said, smiling. "You can't be too bad, or you and Tonks would never have survived each other."

I winced a bit, trying to turn it into a smile. Tonks even outdid me when it came to being clumsy. I just couldn't win. I really had terrible taste in best friends, even though I loved Tonks more than anything else in the world except for my sisters and Charlie.

"Are you getting something?" he asked, nodding at the concession stand.

"Ah, yeah," I said dumbly. "I was planning on it.

"Better get in line now or you'll be here the rest of the match," he teased. "I was going to get something too. You wanna join me?"

"Sure," I managed to stammer, getting into a line with Charlie Weasley, feeling almost as if... almost like we were on a date. Granted, girls typically wanted to go somewhere more romantic for their first date than the concession stand of a Quidditch match, but with Charlie it wouldn't be such a strange thing, and I was happy anywhere he was, as evidenced by my uprooting and moving to a foreign country I had previously been unable to find on a map.

Sacrifices.

"So, what are you going to get?" he asked, still grinning at me.

"Um, probably just some butterbeer and acid pops."

"You like acid pops?" he cried excitedly. "Those are my favorite!"

"I - yeah, mine too," I said, quickly covering the fact that I'd almost said 'I know', which would have been more than a little bit creepy. The last thing I needed was to come across as creepy.

In truth, I hated acid pops, but I'd been getting them every time he was in the vicinity for years, hoping he'd notice that I was the only female at Hogwarts brave enough to actually consume the terrifying sweets.

In actuality, consuming the things made me want to stab myself in the eyes to take away the pain in my mouth, but there were two advantageous things about eating them in front of Charlie.

The first, of course, was that they were candy on a stick that one sucked on. That really doesn't even need explaining.

The second is that they are his favorite type of sweets, so he knows my mouth tastes like his favorite sweets and very likely he is thinking about that fact if anything in the universe cares about my happiness at all. I'm convinced there is nothing sexier to a man than eating his favorite food.

"So what else do you like?" I asked. In truth, other than acid pops I hadn't taken time to learn his sweet preferences because favorites were the most important.

"I have this guilty pleasure," he admitted, blushing a bit. "I'm completely in love with those chocoballs Honeydukes does. You know the ones?"

Oh, I knew the ones. They were my absolute favorite things in the world, but as I had just said acid pops were my favorite, I was careful not to contradict myself.

"Mmm," I gushed. "Those are my second favorite, but it's a very, very close second. I could live off those things."

If such things were possible, I would have said that Charlie had grinned even wider.

When we finally got up to the front of the line, a young, pimply-faced girl asked what we wanted in a thick Scottish accent and Charlie said, "Two butterbeers, two acid pops, and two chocoballs, please."

He reached for his coins when she said how much it would be and when I tried to pay half, he refused to let me. We gathered our snacks and walked off to where we'd met up and he whispered in my ear, "I may not be rich, but I make enough to buy you sweets. I'm not my dad."

I blushed a bit. I hadn't meant to imply... I mean, I wasn't judging him for being a Weasley or anything. I knew as well as anyone that the Weasley family was dirt poor, whereas my family had been upper middle-class for as long as I could remember. But it only took a quick glance at the Weasleys together to see that they didn't need as much money as my family had to be happy and love each other. My sisters and I, we loved each other, and I supposed my mother probably loved us in her own twisted way, but it wasn't the same thing. Since our dad's death... Things just hadn't been the same. Jo and Joss, they hardly knew the difference, but Emma and I knew that our mother had changed, and we remembered very well how things used to be.

"So you're not going to force me to take your money, Valley?" Charlie said earnestly, and I think he probably would have taken it as an insult if I'd suggested I even pay him back a part of what he'd spent on me.

Gryffindors.

"No, if you don't want me to, I won't make you," I said, trying not to blush. If I didn't get away from him I was going to turn into a permanent tomato, but on the other hand I didn't want to get away from him at all.

"Good," he said, smiling at me. "Well, I should probably be getting back. They'll wonder where I've got to. I don't want someone to come looking for me."

"Yeah," I agreed, thinking of Emma worrying about me. "Same."

We sort of looked awkwardly at each other for a moment, trying to decide how to say goodbye. Finally he said, "Well, see you around, then, I hope," and he held out his hand to me.

My heart raced as I took his hand and shook it firmly, relishing in the feel of his skin on mine, the strength of his hand, the firmness of his skin, the rough calluses that lined his palms.

"Yeah," I managed to breathe.

"You should come by the colony, you know," he said, grinning once more. "I could show you around."

"I'd love that," I said honestly.

I wandered back to my seat and Joss raised her eyebrows at me.

"You've missed a lot," she said. "Even if Krum catches the Snitch, Ireland's going to win now!"

I looked at the scoreboard as I snorted, "_If_ Krum catches the Snitch? I'm almost ashamed to call you my sister. Anyway, the line at concessions was long."

"You didn't even get me a licorice wand, how could you?" she teased. I just shook my head.

"Watch the match, Joss." I sighed.

I picked up my omnoculars, completely ignoring the match, thinking instead about the feel of Charlie's hand against mine.

Krum caught the Snitch. Ireland won. Charlie was smiling the whole time.


	6. Hoods, Cowards, and Berks Oh My!: Emma

"I told you Krum's useless," Joss goaded with a large grin plastered to her face as Jo handed her a Galleon bitterly. "That bloke's head's practically filled with sawdust. He might know how to catch a Snitch, but game strategy is not his forte."

"Oh sod off already," Jo scoffed, not sharing Joss' good mood. "You won so just shut your gob already."

"You know, Mum'd kill you if she heard you two gambling," I commenting, shaking my head. Our mother had always been outwardly prudish about such 'sinful' behavior. She publically denounced all sorts of immoral activities. Strangely enough, however, it was not an odd sight to catch her lounging in the parlor during all hours in the afternoon while she monopolized the alcohol cabinet.

"You know what she'd say? 'I thought I raised my daughter to behave in a more civilized manner. It's that school you're going to! It obviously promotes such depraved behavior!'" Joss mimicked our mother's shrill voice.

"'I know they don't get it from my side of the family!'" Jo added in the same nasally sharp tone.

I rolled my eyes but a flicker of a smile managed to escape my attempt to remain straight-faced. They were right. Our mother would have reacted exactly like that, and in that obnoxious voice too. She'd probably have claimed that Hogwarts was just a cover for a scheme to brainwash children into becoming criminals. She was never a big fan of the school, or wizardry for that matter, and she would use almost any excuse to tarnish its reputation.

"You know it's true," Joss shrugged at me, seeing that I wasn't sniggering like Val.

I opened my mouth to reply but there was suddenly a very loud banging noise coming from outside of our tent. My head immediately jerked up, my eyes gravitating towards the tent entrance. "What the –"

_BANG! _There was another almost explosive noise that shook the canvas tent. This time the explosion was accompanied by the sounds of terrified screaming. Val's and mine met only for a moment but the glint of terror shining in her eyes was evident. We'd heard such noises before but it'd been years since the last time we'd heard anything like this.

"Damn! The Irish are celebrating a little rough, aren't they?" Jo shook her head. "Someone should really keep an eye on them. I thought the Ministry was supposed to have security measures so nothing got out of hand."

"Joss, take Jo home," I finally found my voice. "Don't wake Mum and stay there 'til Val or I come get you."

"What?" Joss demanded, outraged at being sent away from the action. "You can't order me around! I'm of age and –"

"Hardly," I interrupted her, my gaze still pinned on the canvas door. "She's still underage and she can't Apparate without you. Get out of here now."

There was another round of explosive blast from outside the tent and Joss, for one of the only times in her life, managed to compromise her usually obstinate nature. She gave me a heated glare and grabbed onto Jo and they were both gone with a _POP!_

Once they were gone I tore open the tent door. I hadn't dared look outside while Joss was there. If she knew what was really happening out there then I wouldn't have been able to talk her into leaving. She'd always been one up for violence and there was plenty of violence happening tonight.

Tents were being blasted away, people scampering away and fleeing towards the forest. There were four figures floating sixty feet in the air, contorting in odd shapes as cruel laughter echoed below. I craned my neck to see around the remaining tents, noticing a flash of black robes and masks. I felt a sudden onset of blind rage I hadn't felt in years, "Death Eaters."

My feet were moving before my brain even registered that I was witnessing a Death Eater attack. I had been too young to do anything about it the last time I saw something like this. This time there was nothing stopping me from giving those hooded cowards a piece of my mind.

I wasn't the only one who was fighting against the crowd to get to the masked demons. There were a few middle aged wizards, potentially employees of the Ministry, and a few my age who were already attempting to stop the mob of miscreants in their tracks.

"STUPEFY!" I casted at the first hooded figure I saw. The figure stopped for a brief moment but was back to terrorizing as if it only shrugged off my Stunning Spell. It was if I'd just tried to stun a Giant.

"Where are those Aurors the Ministry was supposed to send?" I heard Val demand as she came up behind me, also sending her own arsenal of jinxes and spells at the mob of masked cowards.

I didn't answer. She was right; there should have been more of a security measure. The Ministry had made a painstaking effort to try and keep the World Cup protected from the Muggle world but they hadn't managed to keep it safe from wizards. There should have been more security measures to prevent anything like this from happening. The Ministry had apparently gotten lazy with their defenses since the end of the last Wizarding War.

The skirmish didn't last long. The Death Eaters on parade had probably just come out of hiding to remind the world that they still had enough power to cause a bit of a hysterical panic. They were more looking to stir the cauldron and cause a commotion than to really do any real damage.

When the night sky suddenly turned grey the snakes began to flee back to their hole. A skull and a serpent formed in the clouds, causing some of the bewildered game attendees to shriek in fear. I hadn't seen Voldemort's Dark Mark since I was ten and seeing it looming in the dark sky made me feel like a terrified child again. It had plagued me in my nightmares, memories of coming home to find the Dark Mark looming over my childhood home. Seeing it made my blood turn cold.

"Where did it come from?" I heard someone in the crowd shout. "Who cast it?"

I hadn't seen anyone pointing a wand to the sky and by the way the Death Eaters I'd been confronting fled with their tails between their legs at the sight of their old master's mark I highly doubted that any one of them were to blame.

"It came from over there!" I heard another one claim. "In the field!"

I wanted to retort that the entire campground was practically a field with a few trees and that their description was useless at best but with the tense buzz from the situation I felt it was best not to comment. I saw Aurors sprinting towards wherever they thought the Dark Mark had been cast. I turned to Val, noting her silence and grave expression. "You alright?" I questioned. "They hit you with anything?"

She shook her head, the light of various campfires bouncing off of her brown locks. "I'm fine. Did they get you?"

"No," I assured her. "Did you see who cast it?"

She shook her head again. "No, but I'm sure whoever did is long gone."

I knew she was right. Most Death Eaters who were still at large maintained their freedom by swearing that they only did Voldemort's bidding under duress or under the influence of an Imperius Curse. To send up Voldemort's mark at such a populated event was perhaps the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. Why would someone risk being arrested after years of successfully dodging imprisonment? Something just didn't make sense.

"It's Harry Potter!" someone else in the crowd announced. "The Aurors've caught him! Harry Potter sent up the Dark Mark!"

I had to roll my eyes at that accusation. My father had worked with Harry's parents in the Wizarding War. All three of them were members of a secret organization called the Order of the Phoenix, an underground group that tried to fight against Voldemort before his downfall. I hadn't seen Harry since he was a baby but I doubted that he was really going to be the one to conjure Voldemort's mark. That's not the kind of thing you do, especially when it's the mark of the person responsible for your parents' death.

"Bullocks," I snorted. "I'd more likely believe it was the bloody Minister of Magic himself than Harry Potter."

I could vaguely hear raised voices from where the Dark Mark was apparently summoned. It seemed I wasn't the only one who didn't believe Harry could have possibly been the one responsible. Curiosity got the best of me and I began shuffling towards the scene. I recognized the voices of Barty Crouch, the dislikeable Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and a familiar voice that I recognized as belonging to someone I knew, but I couldn't quite put my finger on whose it was.

Val appeared at my side, obviously sharing my interest in the exchange of heated words in front of us. There were several Wizards forming a half-circle around the ordeal, watching with sharpened concentration. I tried to see through the crowd by I was no match against the height of the wizards in front of me so my visibility was poor at best.

I could hear someone sobbing but it almost sounded non-human. There was a round of silence that could only be accurately described as tense, which was only interrupted by the echoing sobs. Eventually there was a murmur and the crowd parted hesitantly. I caught sight of a balding head of flaming ginger hair. I hadn't seen someone with such pronounced red hair since graduating from Hogwarts. My father's best mate and co-worker, Arthur Weasley, had not only been a flaming ginger but his wife and his children were all redheads. I hadn't seen Arthur since my father's funeral and I hadn't seen any of his children since and I graduated Hogwarts with his eldest son, Bill.

"Is it just me, or does he look like -" Val's eyes followed the balding redheaded man. She'd graduated with one of the Weasley boys too. The bloke, Charlie, had been one of her few obsessions since school. He was the reason behind most of the more uncharacteristic things she'd done. For example, she left England for Romania after hearing that Charlie was going to Romania to work in a dragon colony. She'd also been the Quidditch commentator during school because Charlie was the Gryffindor team captain.

"I think so," I nodded, becoming more and more confident in what I thought I'd just seen. I knew they were there, anyway, because she'd run into them earlier in the day. "Fancy trying to find their campsite again?"

"Erm, no," she quickly shook her head. "We probably shouldn't go around stalking the Weasleys, especially after what just happened."

"It's not like it's a crime! Besides, Arthur was one of Dad's best mates. We could just claim we were passing by and thought we'd say hello," I pointed out. "Maybe one of them needs a Healer."

She shook her head again, "No thanks. I don't think now is really the time, considering. I'm just going to go home and make sure Joss and Jo are alright. Joss is probably going to be spitting venom when she finds out that you kept her away from a Death Eater attack."

I knew she was right. This would not have been the kind of thing that Joss would want to miss. "Fine, you go ahead. I'll stick around and see if anyone needing some of my Healing expertise." I waved her off. "Chances are that not all of them got away as lucky and unscathed as we did."

"Well should I expect you home later or you going back to your flat?" she inquired. "They've probably woken up Mum so she's probably going to want to know if she should wait up. You know, she's never going to let us live this down. She didn't want us to come to this and now that there's been an attack I won't be surprised if she doesn't get back on her 'No Wizarding World Allowed' moods again."

"What doesn't send her into one of those moods? Honestly she practically goes into one of those twits every time it's a Tuesday," I sighed. "Anyways, I'll probably head back to my flat. I don't spend enough time there to make the rent worth it anyways. If Mum's awake then tell her I'll come by in the morning to sort everything out."

"Well good luck," she told me.

"Yeah, you too," I replied. "You're going to need it if Mum's awake."

She groaned, making an unattractive face. I couldn't blame her for not being excited about having to deal with our mother. Sometimes I would have rather try to reason with a brick wall than her. She disappeared with a loud POP!

A sense of almost childish mischievousness and curiosity got the best of me. She might not have wanted to have tracked down the Weasley clan, but that didn't mean that I couldn't poke around a bit. Maybe they really did need the attention of a Healer. Perhaps even as I'd been saying my goodbyes a redheaded Weasley was bleeding to death in their tent. It was unlikely, but still very possible.

I felt a bit like one of those detectives in those Muggle mystery novels my mother was always trying to persuade me to read as I followed through the trees, hoping I could catch sight of the tribe of redheads I was looking for.

There were quite a few campsites that I sniffed around but I didn't see anything that indicated I'd found them. I didn't see a flash of ginger hair or evidence of Arthur's Muggle fascination. After what seemed like forever and a thousand campsites later I finally found a campsite with two shabby tents and a wooden sign that said WEEZLY hammered into the ground. The campsite had a dead fire and few Muggle cooking pots and pans.

I collected my courage and promptly walked up to the bigger of the two shabby tents. I tentatively knocked on the canvas door, hoping I'd come to the right tent. When a balding ginger with glasses stuck his head out of the tent I knew that I'd guessed right. "If Diggory has sent you to make more outlandish accusations then –"

I shook my head, putting my hands up in surrender, "No, Diggory didn't send me! I must have come to the wrong tent. They told me someone here needed a Healer's attention." Well, that was a complete lie but I was curious. I hadn't seen any one of the Weasleys in years, especially not the patriarch of the family.

"Oh no, I'm sorry. No, we do need a Healer," he apologized. "My son has a large cut on his arm. I'm sure it's nothing serious but I wouldn't mind having someone look at it."

"Of course," I nodded. I couldn't have hoped for a better reaction. I mean, once I figured out that it was the Weasley tent how was I going to get inside other than being invited in? Knowing where they were didn't do me much good if I couldn't get inside after all.

Arthur beckoned me inside, checking over my shoulder as I entered. I was greeted by several puzzled faces and the strong smell of cat. He led me towards what looked like a kitchen table where a very, very familiar redhead was sitting with a sheet wrapped around his forearm. "This is my son, Bill. I don't know what hit him but he should probably be looked at."

I had to bite my tongue and stop myself from making a bitter comment about the eldest Weasley bloke. He and I had our bit of history back when we went to school together. "I know you," he immediately recognized me, looking up at me from his wound, "Emma Wilde?"

"Bill Weasley," I countered, taking a closer look at his bloodied arm. "What have you done to yourself this time?"

"Emma Wilde? You don't say! John's oldest?" Arthur looked at me in approving surprise. "I don't see why I didn't see the resemblance earlier! You've got his eyes."

I gave him a small smile, kneeling next to Bill. I tried not to make eye contact with him, feeling a pang of fury everything I caught sight of those blue eyes. "How have you been, Arthur? It's been, what, thirteen years?"

"About. I should have kept in touch more after John died but – Well, things got a bit crazy with the war, and your mother never liked me much." Arthur scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "How are your sisters?"

"Fine," I replied, peeling the bed sheet from Bill's arm. "How's Molly?"

"She's great. Oh, pardon me! I'm forgetting my manners. Kids, this is Emma Wilde. She's the daughter of an old friend and colleague. Emma, you might remember some of my children," he provided polite introductions. "You know Bill. This is Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, Ron, my only daughter, Ginny, and Ron's friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."

"'Ello," I nodded my greetings at them while surveying Bill's damage.

"Are you an actual Healer?" the brunette girl named Hermione questioned.

I nodded. "Licensed and everything."

"Was training hard? I've heard that a lot of Healers don't make it through training. It's supposed to be really hard," she commented curiously, her brown eyes shining with interest.

"Most people who go into training don't make it all three years," I conceded, giving Bill's cut a good poke with my wand. He flinched and tried to pull away from me. I rolled my eyes at his squeamishness. "Oh don't be such a baby. It can't hurt that bad."

"Well it does," he snapped childishly. "Can't you be a little gentler?"

"Merlin, you're as big as a pain in the neck as you were when we were in school," I shook my head at him. "I hope you aren't as big of a prat as you were then."

"I was not a prat!" he argued as I prodded the wound with my wand, perhaps a little more violently than I needed to.

"Valentine's Day, 1989," I retorted, muttering a simple healing charm to close the wound.

"I said I was sorry about that!" he insisted. "How many times do you want me to apologize?"

I snorted, "If I remember correctly you never apologized. You told me you had 'Head business' and brushed me off."

"Exactly! I was busy doing my duty as Head Boy!"

"Yeah well since when does Aubrey Langston count a Head Boy duties?" I scoffed as his arm began to heal over, leaving nothing but a faint scar.

"Oh, why does this sound like a scandalous story worth hearing?" either Fred or George (I'd yet to be able to tell the difference) commented in a lightheartedly shrill voice.

"No, it's not," Bill immediately refused. "It's not worth telling."

"Oh we disagree," the other twin shook his head. "We're quite interested in any story that makes you look like a prat. Do you happen to have any embarrassing stories about any of our other siblings while you're at it?"

"Not personally but I have a sister who graduated with Charlie and she's probably got a few about him," I replied, getting to my feet. It was then I noticed the pretentious looking ginger with glasses and a broken nose. It was Percy and he was as snooty as I remembered him. Even when he was a just a little tyke he'd been aspiring to be the Minister of Magic. "What happened to your nose, Percy?"

"I got elbowed," he replied curtly.

"Would you like me to fix it for you? It's a bit of a painful process but it'll straighten your nose out again," I informed him.

"Well I suppose Mr. Crouch wouldn't like I looked like I'd been out of some pub brawl," he conceded. "Is it at least a quick procedure?"

I nodded. "Just a quick spell. I warn you though, it'll hurt."

He puffed out his chest in an offended manner, "I'm an employee of the Department of International Magical Cooperation! I'm sure I can handle a little pain."

I could hear the twins snort and even I had to suppress a snicker. "Well then I suppose I couldn't send Mr. Crouch's best employee to work with a crooked nose, now can I?" Percy seemed pleased but his brothers managed to hear the teasing in my voice and let out a chorus of chuckles. I waved my wand at his nose. "_Episkey_."

The cartilage in his nose seemed to come to life, cracking loudly as it realigned itself. He swore under his breath and his glasses became crooked on his face.

"I warned you it was going to be painful," I reminded him. "Well, if that's all the injuries in this tent then I should probably go see if I can't be of service anywhere else."

"I'll escort you," Bill immediately volunteered. "You really shouldn't go roaming around in the dark, especially not when everyone's still stirred up."

"I agree," Arthur spoke up. "John wouldn't have wanted you to go out there unaccompanied. "Good idea, Bill."

I was not looking forward to having Bill Weasley play tagalong as I tried to Heal the injured. I'd never forgiven him for that Valentine's Day and I didn't really feel the need to have him wandering after me. I couldn't exactly refuse though either. Arthur was right about my father not liking the idea of me going out alone in the dark. I couldn't exactly argue with that, especially since it was true. "I suppose two wands are better than one," I begrudgingly conceded.

I was definitely not happy about the idea of being chaperoned. I was twenty-three years old and a fully certified Healer! I didn't need _him _to supervise me. He, however, seemed quite smug about it. Where was the laid back, nonchalant guy I remembered from school? This bloke was a git.

"What are you smirking about?" I snapped at the git as we emerged from the tent. It was bad enough that I had to spend time with him and I didn't want to have to suffer through him being so damn smug.

"I'm not smirking," he insisted but one look at him told me that he was lying. "I'm just thinking."

"About?" I pressed.

"Valentine's Day, 1989," he replied evenly. "I can't believe you haven't let that one go. It's been five years."

"Yeah, well it's a little hard to forget being stood up for a date, especially when you were eighteen," I retorted unforgivingly. It'd been years since he stood me up, but it was a wound that still hadn't quite fully healed. "Might I also remind you that I then had to suffer through Langston's victorious smirks until we graduated? I mean, if you were really going to stand me up on Valentine's Day then couldn't you at least have done it for someone who wasn't a complete cow?"

He sighed, "Emma, it really was an accident. I –"

"What are you even doing back here?" I demanded, cutting him off what I assumed would be a pathetic attempt at an excuse. "I thought you were battling mummies in Ethiopia or something."

"Curse-Breaking in Egypt," he corrected me. "And I came to see the World Cup with my family. Is that a crime?"

"Yes!" I snapped. "Now go back to bloody Africa where you belong!" I ducked behind one of the tents, separating myself from the horrid prat who'd left me waiting for him in the Three Broomsticks for four hours alone all those years ago. How was I supposed to let that go? I sat around like a complete idiot waiting for that git. No, I wasn't going to forgive him, ever. Some things are just unforgiveable. This was going with me to my bloody grave.


	7. How to Hold a Grudge: Joss

**A/N Chapter seven **

There was an incessant ringing echoing through my head and try as I might, I couldn't ignore it for another moment. I knew who it was though. It was one of two people, really. Either Emma, calling from work so our mother didn't worry herself into a coma thinking Em was dead on the side of the road, when in reality, Emma probably just didn't want to call her (who did?), or the idiot my mother was currently doing the deed with (disgusting). Since Emma wasn't even working, it had to be him. _Archibald_. Honestly, who in their right mind names their kid Archibald? Well, if I had a brat like him for a kid I'd do it just to see the playground tots tear the mickey out of him, myself. It must have been a painful school career for poor Archie.

I may not like Archie. In fact, I can't tolerate the fact he breathes near my father's old chair in the living room, but it was still better than Emma calling. After sending me home from the Cup I didn't _want_ to talk to her. She could dial the phone from that stupid phone booth until her fingers fell off. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's being treated like an incompetent child. I'm not an infant; I'm of age, for Morgana's sake! Yet she still thinks she can just send me home, like I'm her bloody house elf! I swear, it's an oldest child complex. I should look into getting her some therapy or something.

I sighed and rolled over, staring at my ceiling. No doubt I'd be in trouble for not cleaning my room since the previous week. Honestly, what my mother doesn't seem to be able to process, granted her mind is probably swimming in alcohol and can barely function anymore, is that while she thinks my room is messy, _I know where everything is_. Why does she even care? She doesn't live in my room. She doesn't even have to enter at all. I'd prefer it if she never even neared my door. But Archie was probably coming over, which meant Mum would want the whole house cleaned and spotless, until she could see her aging face in the reflection of the kitchen floor. I can't comprehend that. I don't want to see it face to face, let alone when I glance at the floor. I might have had to blind myself.

I must've broken my neck when the door whipped open, turning to stare at the rude intrusion. Jo came trotting into my goddamn room like she owned the place and headed straight to my dresser. When I said I knew where everything was in my 'messy' room, apparently I should've included Jo in that statement. She was looking easily over my cosmetics, searching for something in particular, obviously and ignoring my existence.

"Excuse me, ever heard of knocking, you twit?"

Jo shrugged a shoulder at me. I couldn't even get _two_ shoulder shrugs now, just one? This, my dear baby sister, would not fly.

"Oi! Unless you're maid service, get the hell out."

"Do you know where your raspberry lip gloss is? I'm all out of my passion fruit."

"That's probably because you've been using it like a love potion trying to impress the paper boy all holiday." I said, watching her through sleepy and narrowed eyes.

She glanced over her shoulder to glower at me and I gave her my best _'suck on that one, princess'_ smile.

"I was not trying to impress anybody, especially the paper boy, who by the way is a very sweet boy named Elliot. Now where is it?"

"First of all, you _so_ were, you all but threw your panties out the window when he delivered the morning paper. And second, none of your business because it's not yours."

"Joss, please? I don't have any more."

"Here's an idea. Get some more."

"I don't have time."

"I'm sure Elliot won't mind if you don't taste like raspberry."

"I don't like Elliot!"

"Please, I saw you break out the push-up bra, which by the way is mine, give it back."

"I had no idea you were partial to black lace, Joss."

"Three seconds before I shove a mascara brush up your nose."

"Where's the lip gloss?"

"Down my shirt. Wanna get it?"

Jo rolled her eyes, striding towards the door before turning to give me an irritated expression.

"You're such a child."

"At least I'm not the baby."

She slammed the door so hard my footie trophy from when I was ten promptly fell off the shelf and landed in my laundry basket. I grinned and stood from the bed, deciding to get dressed. I couldn't finish annoying her from all the way in my room.

-0-

My mother was on the phone, twirling the cord around her finger as she talked, staring out our large (and, big surprise) recently cleaned front window. I glanced at the top of her head as I came down the stairs and snorted. She needed a dye job. Touch up those roots, woman. I couldn't stand it, watching her like that. She looked like a school girl, twirling the phone cord around her manicured nails and giggling. _Archie_. I valiantly resisted the urge to vomit on the freshly vacuumed white carpet stairs.

My mother turned around - I swear I don't see the point of wearing stilettos while you're inside your own house - and arched a perfectly tweezed eyebrow (also dyed) at me. She pursed her lips and took the mouth piece away from her lips, towards her shoulder.

"Jocelyn," I cringed slightly, "did you clean your room?" she asked.

"Why?"

"We're having company over."

I hummed.

"Well, is the company having the tea party in my room?" I asked as I reached the bottom stair.

She tsked at me.

"_Archibald_ is coming over, Jocelyn. Your room needs to be clean."

"Mother, shouldn't you be worried about why Archie would find himself in your teenage daughter's bedroom?"

I heard a few choice words slip her lips (which was really the only evidence that she was indeed my birth mother and I wasn't switched at the hospital because no one can curse like my mother, and according to Emma it's one of my well-known gifts) and I made my way to the kitchen. Jo was there, standing over the stove. Apparently I missed the breakfast call and the kitchen was now serving lunch.

"Whatcha makin'?" I asked, hopping onto the counter.

She spared a glance at me before grabbing the spatula.

"Grilled Cheese."

I hummed again.

"No." she said when I opened my mouth.

I pouted.

"Jo!" I whined.

"No!" she mimicked.

"But why?"

"Because I said so."

I reared back, choking on an incredulous laugh and Jo seemed to pause over the hot pan, spatula at the ready and turned to stare at me with horrified eyes.

I threw my head back and laughed and Jo slammed her hands over her face.

"Merlin almighty," she breathed.

"Should I check to see Mum hasn't died on the phone with Archie? Because you definitely just channeled her."

She groaned and quickly flipped a sandwich over.

"You need to get out of the house more. She's clearly brainwashing you. Soon you'll be clones. A little mini-Winifred! I mean, you're already blonde like her." I sniggered.

Jo scowled at me.

"You know, Mum gives me that look at least five times before breakfast."

I couldn't help it really, these things just came out. Jo was the closest sister in age to me. Val and Emma were out of the house and Val was in Romania because she was some hopeless romantic and I couldn't snap her out of that. Emma was a rather successful Healer at St. Mungo's. My mother wasn't fond of either of their choices, but I didn't mind. I mean, Val may have moved out there for a bloke who had no idea she was ready and willing for him, but she was a fantastic writer. She was the only reason I read the paper, honestly. That and the little animated cartoons on the bottom of course.

Emma…Emma could've been a doctor, really. Could've been a brain surgeon or something with the brains she had. My mother would've been happy with that. Would've bragged endlessly about that. But Emma, in my opinion had a better job than dealing with regular old traumas. She worked on the Creature-Induced Injury floor, which was exciting as hell. She brought me there for a visit when she first got the job and I saw a bloke who had a hand that was bitten off by a hippogriff with some maddening disease that made it mental and they had to make it crap the thing out so they could reattach it. It doesn't get much better than that. You know, she made it really hard to stay mad at her sometimes…

Jo was different though. Jo was…well, she was Jo. She was the baby, the blonde, my Irish twin, the one I most loved annoying. She did this thing where if I pushed the right buttons enough her whole face would turn red, all the way down her neck even. I told her it really brought out her eyes. She nearly clocked me a good one once. That was the thing about my baby sister. Emma tolerated my antics and then did damage control, like some sort of mother and Val laughed them off or blushed like crazy depending on what I said. Jo could throw them back just as good as she took them.

Despite the fact I'd done nothing but aggravate her as soon as I opened my eyes she still dropped a grilled cheese filled plate in my lap before sitting at the table. I folded my legs like a pretzel as I got comfortable on the counter and munched on my sandwich, giving her a pleased grin and batted my eyes at her and she rolled hers but I saw her lips twitch. She never held anything against me. Good kid.

Our mother click-clacked her way into the kitchen, putting on a cuppa and leaned back against the counter, wistful smile on her face and I felt like vomiting up my lunch.

"Archibald will be here shortly." She announced and then her eyes rounded as she stared at us both. I had the fleeting thought Jo had hexed my face or something while I wasn't looking.

"Please tell me you two aren't wearing these outfits while he's here!" she cried.

I thought she was being a bit dramatic as Jo shared a tired look with me. I was wearing sweats and a baggy t-shirt with my hair up and Jo was in ripped jeans and a tank top. She looked at me and shrugged, taking a bite out of her sandwich.

"Mum, what's wrong with our clothes?" she asked, entertaining our mother's mental dysfunction.

"They're slum clothes!" she shrieked.

I raised my eyebrows at her. _Slum clothes?_ I almost laughed. Like our mother actually even knew what the slums were.

"Mum, no they're not." Jo said.

"Yes! You must change."

"Mum, think about it. It could be worse. I could be absolutely starking when Archie comes through the front door." I said breezily.

If my mother's veins protruded from her forehead anymore they'd surely pop out, and that would mean contacting Emma for medical assistance, which I was not keen on doing as I was determinedly _not talking_ to Emma.

My mother shook her head, placing a hand delicately on her forehead as if trying to ward off a migraine.

"Why do you have to be so un-lady like, Jocelyn? Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into you."

I rolled my eyes and ripped a rather large piece off my sandwich. Jo smirked and stared out the window. Chances are she'd hide out in either her room or my room as soon as the doorbell rang. She didn't outwardly hate Archie. Occasionally she'd slip something in there that would go right over his head and I'd be bent over laughing hysterically in the next room. Truthfully, we'd only spent minutes with Archie. Val hadn't met him as far as I knew. She was always in Romania, after all. Emma, I believe, met him at least once. Jo never stuck around for longer than the necessary 'Hello, Archibald' before scampering off to the other end of the house, and I tended to go out to the field down the street and play a game of footie with some kids I used to go to school with.

"I really don't want to know what – who – has gotten into you." I muttered.

Jo shuddered in the corner of the kitchen, determinedly staring at a breeze ruffling the tree outside. The idea of our mother…doing _that_…with Archie was…incomprehensible. I couldn't stand the fact she was dating him. I couldn't stand the fact she was dating anyone, really. I mean, Jo and I never really knew our dad. He died when we were young in the first war. Maybe that's why I hated the situation.

My father was a hero. I couldn't understand how he married someone like my mother. My father was a war hero who died in battle like a hero. He had been nice and strong and everything Archie wasn't. Archie was dumb and sleazy and didn't care about my father. My father had a chair in the living room that I remember was where he used to tell me these crazy stories about these friends he had, over in the magical community. I threw a fit when my mother wanted to put it into storage because 'it didn't fit her new décor'. That was dad's chair, it wasn't going anywhere.

He was the reason I liked Quidditch so much. I don't remember if he used to play himself, but he had this Beater's Bat, signed by the Falmouth Falcon's Beaters and I had it hidden away in my room. Everything magical was a bad thing in my mother's house. I couldn't so much as mention Quidditch, the 'Q' word, in her presence. She had been like that for as long as I can remember. No Quidditch, no magic. I bet she told Archie Emma was a doctor at some big time hospital in London or something and Val wrote for the London paper, which was why there weren't around. They were being big important "Muggle" society members. I wonder what she'd say about me when I became a Hit-Wizard after I was done at _'boarding school' _in '_Switzerland_'. Would she even be ashamed to come up with a lie saying I was on the police force? I hoped so.

The doorbell rang and Jo and I were up and out of the room before my mother could even get out a happy sigh. We raced into my room and slammed the door shut, once again having my trophy fall. I groaned and looked at Jo who was staring at the trophy like she had no idea where it came from.

"Will you stop slamming my door before my whole damn wall comes down?" I grumbled, flopping down on my bed.

"I didn't do that." She stated, sitting next to be.

"No right, it was the pixies in the wall."

"There's probably an infestation."

"Uh-huh. Why don't I shove your head in there and you tell me how many we're dealing with."

She picked up a Witch Weekly and flipped it open, crossing her ankles and humming to herself.

I sighed and shoved my head in a pillow.

"Are you still mad at Emma for sending us back here?" Jo asked.

"Yes."

"Were you going to fight?"

"With her or with the Death Eaters?"

"Either one, and I don't think those were actually Death Eaters." She said.

"Yeah, I would've fought them, the Slug Eaters. Of course they were real, Jo! What, was it just a poor early Halloween costume choice then?" I snapped.

She shrugged but her legs were bouncing on the mattress. I watched her for a moment.

"Are you trying to make the house shake and convince Mum there's an earthquake? Valiant effort at chasing her sugar daddy off, kid."

Jo gave me a puzzled look and then realization dawned on her face and she caught herself.

"They've been gone for years, Joss. They wouldn't come back just for kicks at the Cup." She reasoned.

"They did."

"We don't know that."

"No, _we_ don't. Why is that? Because Emma thinks she's a hundred years older and wiser than me and that I can be sent home whenever she snaps her fingers because I don't know how to function a wand!"

Jo sighed and leant her head back against a pillow.

"You know that what she was thinking."

"I don't care what she was thinking."

"Don't mumble at me, you sound like you're speaking troll."

"I don't care what Emma was thinking. I'm of age now; I can do what I want. She can't just send me away."

"You're _barely_ of age, Joss. And if those were real Death Eaters, how would you have stopped them?"

"If I'm going to be a Hit-Wizard, I have to be _allowed_ to fight."

"You will be allowed to fight when you _become_ a Hit-Wizard." Jo said in a tired voice.

I turned my head to the other side, away from her. I was frowning and Jo was being annoying. Emma had no right to tell me what to do anymore. I was of age, whether she liked it or not and I wanted to fight. She didn't have a choice in that. I loved Emma, really. But she sometimes took the 'step-in-mum' routine a little too seriously. I wasn't a baby and I could make my own decisions.

Jo was sighing to herself, obviously loudly enough to that I'd hear and turn around. She hated when I showed my back to her during a conversation. She said it was rude, because I did it whenever I didn't like what I was hearing, which _wasn't_ true. Really.

Something crashed into the window with a glass-shuddering thud and I groaned outwardly into the pillow. Jo jumped and then perked up, easily reaching over me to open the window and I jumped up quickly, panicking, and crashing my back into Jo who cussed me out quietly as she lurched away from me, cradling her soon to be bruised chest with a scowl planted on her face. I muttered a vague apology and let the owl in, patting him once on the head and turning my back to my sister, opening the letter.

_Dearest Joss, _it began. I cursed and crumpled the paper, throwing it into my waste paper basket.

The owl flew off quickly with a hoot, dropping several feet in the air at first before catching itself and soaring off. Jo was watching me curiously as she rubbed soothingly at her collar bone and I shrugged.

"It's nothing. Just some stupid tosser from school. Ignore it."

"Was it Fred? _Again_?" she asked with a sly smile.

I shot her a look and sat back down on my bed, taking care to kick her in the shin as I went.

"No."

"You're lying. I can tell."

"You can tell nothing."

"I can tell when you're lying. Fred wrote you, again. What is your issue with him?"

I sighed and slid down my pillows, staring at the ceiling. I should repaint it soon, white is too boring.

"I don't have an issue."

"You have many issues, but we're not getting into that, we don't have the time. I'm talking about you particular issue with a mister Fred Weasley."

"Sorry to disappoint, Jo, but there isn't an issue."

"Then why not at least read his letters, if not reply?"

"Because it's a waste of my time. If he wants to waste his holiday writing to me, fine, but my time is better spent otherwise."

Jo was staring at me, I could feel it burning through my skull. I hated when she did that. She was perceptive. Sometimes she chose to be annoyingly perceptive at inopportune times, like now for instance.

"Let's leave it alone. We never have to talk about this again, yeah? Good, okay then. Now get out."

Jo sighed and gave a dramatic groan of frustration, but she only reached over to pick up her magazine, _my_ magazine, and made herself comfortable. I'd take it as a sign of truce. I wasn't planning to talk about Fred Weasley, because there was absolutely positively nothing to talk about. There was nothing worth talking about between Fred and I, and I refused to entertain the idea that there was, even if Fred spent all holiday trying to convince me otherwise.


	8. Happiness Hit Her Like A Train: Jo

Happiness hit her like a train: Jo

_Love is a Battlefield_ Chapter 8

I wanted to get out of this bloody house.

Beginning with breakfast, Mum had started on us. She was putting on all her tricks, trying to convince through guilt, bribery, and flattery for Joss and I not only attend her bloody idiotic dinner with Baldie, but also "act with propriety and deportment" around him. Quarreling with her like this was like trying to put a single leash on a menopausal runespoor that happened to have the shrill voice of an unsilenced fwooper. Emotional, elusive, and slowly driving us insane.

It was now just after noon. I slammed the door to my room shut behind me. Downstairs, Joss's voice was already starting to grow hoarse from screaming. She and Mum were having an out and out row, voices probably still audible on both ends of the street. Joss had been too busy shouting and throwing things to notice my pleas to shut her bloody hole and take a cool down walk with me. Instead she shoved me towards the stairs. Well fine, then.

I loved my sisters for sure, of course. But at moments like these I just wanted out. I was tired of treading the paths they had already, for people assuming that since I was related to Joss, I must be just like Joss. Or Val. Or Emma. I'm just Josephine Jane Wilde. Or just Jo. Take me as I am.

And for the love of Merlin get me a new mother.

I shook my head at the impossibility of these thoughts. The daylight was flowing from my single window to light up the scarlet bedspread and Gryffindor pennants. The old poster of the Falmouth Falcons showed them zooming around a Quidditch pitch and the Beaters Karl and Kevin Broadmoor flew up to wave their bats at me before going back to their game. I smiled out of habit at them and my eyes wandered to my recently neatened desk, a properly aligned pile of books and papers and quills. But it was familiar and comforting. It was my own.

I crossed the short space to my bed and fell on it, face first, smelling the soft mattress and clutching at the covers. At first, I thought I could just lay there and fall asleep, but then my jeans were uncomfortable. I felt grimy from the quarrel and, as I closed my eyes, Joss and Mum's banshee yelling was made more decipherable. _Why are you so desperate for us to be Muggle? What's your problem with magic? Magic, Magic, Magic! You used to love Dad's-Be quiet, Jocelyn!_

Round and round the garden, like a teddy bear.

Always arguing the same things, never getting anywhere.

Shower. Now.

Joss and I shared a bath as well as product. I slipped in to the room, dropping my clothes to the floor and blasting the water as hard as possible, hoping to drown out the sounds coming from downstairs. The hot water was just what I needed, the warmth spreading calm and forgetfulness of the past events. When I scrubbed in Wilda's Wild Wonder Shampoo, I almost moaned with the pleasure. Showers were one of the best inventions _ever._

I forced my thoughts away from what was happening in the family and focused on me. The rest of my summer, besides attending the flubberworm dung of the-event-that-shall-not-be-named, would be spent gently flirting with Eliot, having a good laugh, alternatively enraging and conspiring with Joss, and escaping mother. The minute I stepped on the Hogwarts Express, my wand would be back in my hands again, feeling warm and happy in my fingertips. I would fold paper cranes-no, I would make the paper fold itself into paper cranes-and make them flap around the compartment. And change color. And do cartwheels. And if Joss was annoyed I would make daises sprout from her armpits.

When I eventually came out, the voices downstairs were softer, though that might have been because Joss's voice had finally given out. Another fwooper squawk from Mum confirmed my suspicions. I wrapped my hair in a towel and walked back to my room starking because nobody cared. I gave my hair one hundred strokes with a brush and then remembered Val was coming 'round to say goodbye.

I threw on clothes and raced downstairs. Walking right through the arguing, I grabbed Joss's wrist and pulled her hard. Without even breaking her sentence, she let me lead her on and out the front door. Out on the London streets, she shut up, just staring silently into space as if it took immense mental effort to disengage herself from Mum's mess. She closed her eyes and breathed a couple times. I just continued walking until we reached the exact center of Joss's favorite field.

Some kids were playing footie at the opposite end and a couple of pensioners were walking their dogs in the surrounding parkland. One family was having a picnic next to a pond and feeding bread to a massive swarm of geese. Normal Muggle life. So boring.

Joss seemed to have finally reconnected her brain. "What the bloody hell are we doing here?" she croaked. "Let me have another go at the mad old hag."

"No," I said. "I'm tired. You wankers were giving me a migraine."

We laughed a bit weakly at our own lies. I didn't have a mental migraine as much as an emotional one. Joss, while basically made of fighting spirit, did have a limit. She was exhausted and tired, needing to rest. It was in moments like these she was most vulnerable. A stray thought wondered if it would be in moments like these Fred would finally get to her, finally make her fall for him, finally make her show some affection. I shook it away and moved my hand to hold hers, instead of gripping onto her wrist. I squeezed it once.

"See those footballers over there?"

She looked over and nodded.

"Those your mates?"

She shook her head.

"Alright, tie some shoelaces together."

The next instant one of the footballers, the biggest in fact, fell flat on his face.

"Nice," I said. "That was lovely. Now scare some geese. That poor family is about to get eaten."

In the very center of pack of birds, a loud pop was heard. The geese scattered, honking loudly in panic. The family looked distinctly relieved. "Excellent," I smiled.

We continued like that for a bit, Joss wrecking random mayhem in the park, mostly benign but sometimes getting a bit malevolent. Some acorns fell a little bit early and hit squirrels on the head. All the magic was wandless of course, Joss being enviably good at the stuff. Only one more year. Then I could do that too and not have a Ministry owl at my window...

The sun rolled on in the sky and the time for Val's arrival drew near. We trudged back home and each went to one door in silent agreement.

A few minutes later, I heard a loud crack 'round by the kitchen door. I raced over. Joss had jumped Val from behind, putting a hand over her mouth to keep Val from saying anything that would alert Mum to her arrival. Val was a bit cross.

"Joss, what are you _doing, _you mad_-"_

"Shhh!" I whispered. "We're hiding from Mum. She's being intolerable about the damn dinner with Baldie."

Val stopped struggling but frowned. "How long have you left her alone?"

Joss and I shrugged. "A few hours. Nothing she didn't deserve," Joss said, her voice still a bit hoarse. "Are you with us or do you want to calm down the banshee by yourself?"

Val rolled her eyes. "You two, honestly. You can't just leave all your messes for Emma to clean up. She has her own life, you know."

I blinked. "No, she doesn't. The last time I think she took a holiday for herself was in the womb. And Joss isn't speaking to her still so asking her to clean up messes is a bit difficult at the moment."

Val pinched the bridge of her nose, something she did only when she was annoyed. "Just let me go say goodbye to Mum and then I'll kill the last hours before I portkey out of this place doing whatever you want."

Joss and I both smiled triumphantly. "Yes!" Joss squealed softly, scrabbling off of Val's back. "Meet us here in ten minutes or I'll jinx your legs together!"

"Such affectionate words for your sister," Val mocked, rubbing her shoulders. She was wearing her rucksack full of clothes and no doubt a portkey. As she took hold of the door handle and let herself in, Joss and I settled in to wait.

Mum's voice rose like a mushroom cloud at the sight of her daughter. The impressive level of vocal cord ability only lasted for a second, but I knew that the rest of the sentence probably constituted of wanting to know where Joss and I were, if Val was coming to the infamous event, and entreaties for her to not live in Romania. Val's end of the conversation would consist of a hug and careful extraction from said conversation.

I knew this because this is what all of Mum's one-on-one conversations with Val were like. Round and round the garden, like a teddy bear, one step, two step, tickle you under there.

As if on cue, Mum gave an audible screech.

"You'd think her voice would give out," Joss said. "Or maybe she'd die of nerves or heart disease."

"Are you kidding? Our Mum? Made of steel, that one. Probably haunt us the rest of our days, just out of spite." A horrible thought occurred to me. "What if she and Baldie get married and are delusional enough to have a tot?"

Joss's face paled. "Don't speak of such evil things," she joked, but then continued seriously. "I'd pity the kid. None of us would be around to save it."

I frowned, thinking. "Aren't you coming back next summer? You're going to take your N.E.W.T.s and leave, aren't you?"

Joss wouldn't meet my eyes. "Training will take a bit to get going and I'll need to sleep somewhere during that."

That wasn't exactly a "yes," but it wasn't exactly a "no" either. I huffed and tapped my foot, impatient for Val. Mum had the annoying ability to delay someone for hours. The woman was like a black hole, sucking everybody into her drama. I hoped Val hadn't gotten caught.

"What about you? What are you going to do once you graduate?" Joss seemed actually interested in my answer for once, honestly not knowing it. "You got a nice number of O.W.L.s. If you play your N.E.W.T.s right, you could have an important job like Emma's. Or work in the Ministry. Maybe Department of Magical Accidents." She gave a wry smile. "You've caused enough to know your way around them."

I snorted. "Yeah, right. Me with an office? I wouldn't be in it half the time."

"You'd be out causing about half the accidents."

"Has Freddie written you today?"

Joss's face turned an interesting shade somewhere between red and purple. "No!" she snapped.

I felt bad. Joss had had enough arguing today and was being rather nice to ask what I wanted. She crossed her arms and turned away from me. I mumbled an apology and her shoulders lost the tension, but neither of us picked up the conversation.

The trouble was I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I took subjects and O.W.L.s because I was interested in them, not because they were recommended for a career path. It seemed like my sisters had already done everything: medicine, journalism, Ministry. There wasn't a place I could work to where the Wilde name had already carved its mark. I could go into teaching, but who would want a former prankster? What would I teach? The jinxed Defense Against the Dark Arts position? That seemed like the only opening Hogwarts would perpetually have available. But I didn't want to stay at Hogwarts either. I loved the place, but the ghosts of my sisters were there too, the youngest continually repeating their actions. Looking abroad was an option if I didn't care about having Mum's blood on my hands. Her anxiety and blood pressure would fly past healthy levels.

But since when did I care about Mum? That wasn't true: I did care and somewhere in the cockles of my heart I probably loved her. But she would get over it, wouldn't she? She'd kind of accepted Val's choice: she wasn't dying or anything. I hadn't thought it a good one at the time, but I respected Val (and her obsession with Charlie Weasley) enough to let her go. Mum nagged Val about it, but was that any worse than her nagging about Emma's lack of husband or Joss and I's choice of school?

My thoughts were interrupted with Val sneaking back out. She looked a bit haggard from her confrontation but smiled a bit shakily back at us, saying, "I told her you'd be back by ten. Where are we going? My portkey's at 9:30 and I haven't eaten dinner."

Joss and I smiled at her. "Food!"

Still hidden from prying eyes by our house, we Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, pushing the correct bricks to get to Diagon Alley. The evening sky was clear for once and a dusty mellow light was coloring the usual shoppers. I felt tension drain from my body again, like I was taking a second warm shower. This world-the one full of magic-was where I belonged, not the starved, soul-crushing world of Mum's anxious creation.

Joss started teasing Val about Charlie as we walked through the streets to our favorite cafe, passing street peddlers with their last minute deals, the 'good morning' hoots of owls, and the innumerable posters softly singing their store's wares or advertising events. The cafe served hot sandwiches for the dinner crowd as well as the usual pastries and muffins, and Joss and I scarfed down our food as we realized we'd forgotten about lunch. As it was closing we managed to snag sundaes at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, and we licked our never-melting ice creams as we walked back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Well, I guess I'll let you two head back," said Val, stopping next to a table. "Hope you enjoyed your time away from Mum."

I groaned. "Take us with you to Romania. I'll do your dishes."

"And get in the way of her putting the moves on Charlie?" Joss said, aghast. "Never! Glad you talked to him, Val."

"Good luck on your almost date!" I added.

Val blushed. "It's not a date!" she spluttered. "I'm just going to visit his work for an article."

Joss rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. It's a date, Val. Or possibly the closest you're going to get to one."

I (lightly) punched Joss's arm. She howled. "Whatcha doing that for? You crazy-"

"Now, now, children," Val laughed. "Run home to Mummy."

Joss and I both groaned. Val waved evilly, dug a decapitated, chewed-on doll out of her rusksack, and with a pop she was gone.

"Damn her," Joss said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure she's the one you want to be damning?"

Joss turned away a bit and refused to look me in the eyes. "I miss her, you know. Sometimes I can kind of see where Mum's coming from, wanting her to stay." Joss shook herself. "But that doesn't mean Mum's right. Val's got her own dream with Charlie. She ought to pursue it." She finally looked at me and waggled her eyebrows. "Never know; she could make aunts out of us."

"Ewwww!" I joked. "Kids'll be calling you Aunt Joss next! That's so old!"

"Shut up! It'd be fun. And it's better than Auntie Jo: that sounds like some sort of venereal disease."

"Maybe you're some form of dragon pox. It would explain so much about your personality."

"Maybe I should rearrange your face. It obviously needs some work as you don't look like the rest of us."

"Blokes like blondes."

"And how many blokes have you had? Been makin' progress with Mister Eliot? The wee country boy! Deceived by the conniving city witch!"

I scowled at her. "I don't like Eliot and he doesn't like me! Merlin! And I'm sure he would find magic fascinating if given the chance."

"Whatever, Jo. I'll leave you to your daydreams."

"Whatever, Joss. I'll leave you to your loneliness," I mimicked.

Then Joss really did make a dash at me and even though I ran she caught my arm. She instantly Apparated us to our kitchen doorstep and put me in a headlock.

"Take it back!" she yelled. She rubbed her free knuckles against my head.

Because it was just that kind of day, I started laughing uncontrollably.

"Never!" I squealed. Joss only noogied me harder.

"Take the pain!"

"Jocelyn! Josephine! Where on earth have you been?" The fwooper squawk was back.

"Shit," Joss swore, releasing me. "Sorry, little sister."

"It's fine," I said, standing to dust myself off. "I'll get her to bed. Try to sneak past."

Joss nodded and together we faced the darkness of the house.


	9. Dragons Aren't Romantic: Val

**A/N: Val's POV**

My hands shook for two reasons. Reason number one: I would be encountering Charlie Weasley very soon. Reason number two: I was about to see a bunch of large, ferocious dragons.

Granted, the people who worked at the colony were highly trained and experienced in working with said dragons, but judging by the number of scars I'd seen on the workers I'd met, there were still plenty of accidents to be had. I would certain rather that I wasn't a casualty of one of those accidents.

I was met at the gate by a small group. I recognized Felix, and Charlie was there, as well as a girl who made my heart sink because she was so beautiful, and she clearly was interested in Charlie by the way she kept touching his arm.

"Hey, it's Valerie!" Felix cried when I came closer to the entrance. "How are ya, sweetheart?"

I just laughed and said, "Good to see you, too, Felix. I brought my quill. I don't have a photographer, so I take the pictures myself." I gestured to the camera hanging from my arm.

"Come on in and we'll show you around," Charlie said, shooting Felix what I thought might be a warning look.

"This is Sofia Cohen," he said, introducing me to the pretty blonde girl who was practically hanging all over him. "She's one of our newest recruits. She's been spending the summer getting her bearings."

"Charlie's been my mentor," she said sweetly.

I wanted to rip her pretty face off, tear out her perfect blonde hair, push her in the way of a flaming dragon... My mind was spinning with plots.

"Nice to meet you," I lied.

"C'mon," Charlie said, "I'll show you around, introduce you to the crew."

"I can do it," Felix said cheerily.

"Actually," Sofia said helpfully, "you agreed to help me get the feed ready for the Ridgeback, Felix."

"Right," Felix muttered. "Right, well, see you around, sweetheart!"

"Yeah," I managed to say as Charlie offered his arm to me.

I thought my stomach was going to burst with the butterflies going in them, but I took his arm and let him lead me around the dragon colony, introducing me to various people. I felt like I was floating instead of walking and the world was full of wonderful things.

"This is Christopher Henry. He's in charge of the colony."

I snapped some pictures, asked a few questions, and tried to keep myself from looking too much like a lovesick fool.

"Easton Rossi over there with Jonathan Gerard. They're the experts on the Northern dragons. You know, like the Ridgeback and the Ironback and whatnot."

I nodded as if I knew what he was talking about.

"Erik Gilbert over there, he's been around as long as anyone can remember. Ah, and that's Babette Roche he's talking to. He's absolutely head over heels about her. If he ever gets the courage to ask, they'll probably get married."

It was all I could do not to shiver at the word 'married' coming out of Charlie's mouth.

"And that's Sawyer Klein, Pip Schmitt, Stella Collin. They came in around the same time as Felix and I."

I frowned.

"What are they doing?" I asked, trying to figure out what they were up to.

"Oh," Charlie said, grinning. "They're working with some newborns from China, got sent to us when the mother was found dead by some travelers. The colony in Asia isn't equipped to handle young."

The pride with which he puffed out his chest at those words, that his colony actually could handle young, would have made a more normal person laugh. I just grinned.

"But what are they doing with them?"

"Playing," Charlie explained. "Like puppies or kittens or young in any other species, dragons need to play so they learn. Since their mother isn't around and the other Fireball we have doesn't recognize these young in a friendly way, we have to simulate the sort of play that goes on between mother and child using raw meat, really long iron poles with charms against dragon flame, and quick reflexes. Stella's got killer reflexes. It's why she's not got a single burn mark in all her time."

I couldn't help but be impressed with that, as well as Stella's raven-black hair. Why did everyone have to have prettier hair than me?

"This is a great group of guys," Charlie said as we neared a group, "and I've been asking them to get this ready because I've wanted to show you since we got this in. It's an Opaleye, from Australia, and it's gorgeous. It's the best specimen I've ever seen."

Even I had to admit that the dragon was one of the most beautiful things I'd seen in my life. The mother-of-pearl sheen of its scales, it's thin, sleek, powerful body. I could understand, in that moment, why Charlie Weasley had given up a life as a professional Quidditch player to work with dragons.

"Wow," I breathed.

Charlie grinned even wider, pulling out his wand.

"That's Cameron Vidal, Alex Olivier, Timothy Berger, Jake Julien, and Kenneth Breton overseeing the dragon. He's feisty, so we need to have a lot of people on hand. Don't go closer than this fence here, okay? Take as many pictures as you want. It'll be a great show."

He rushed off to the dragon and I could feel my heart pounding fiercely in my chest. What if something went wrong? But I pulled out the camera and began snapping pictures of the dragon, the workers, and especially Charlie, who was getting the others to calm the beast while he checked its eyes, ears, and teeth. I held my breath, but Charlie was a natural. Nothing went wrong and the dragon seemed very pleased to see him. It was almost like a friendly person with a dog, only not as furry and with breath of fire.

By the time Charlie came back over to me I was so jumped up on nerves that I was surprised that I was still standing when he was in front of me.

"That was amazing," I gushed. "Scary, though."

He laughed.

"Come on, I'll take you over to our 'break room'."

We walked over to the break area, where Felix, Sofia, and Stella were sitting down with some tea.

"Pip's coming in soon," Stella said. "He's got to answer a letter from his sister but then he's going to need some of these sweets to tide him over. The biscuits are great, by the way," she said, turning to me. "Babette makes them."

"Oh, nice," Charlie said, holding up the tin of biscuits for me to grab one, which I did, before grabbing one himself and gesturing for me to sit next to Stella.

I didn't want to sit next to Stella. There would be comparisons. She was a raven-haired beauty and I was, well, just me. Nothing special. I found myself wishing I had Jo's strawberry blonde locks instead of my own mousy brown hair. Anything would have been better than what I had.

The chocolate biscuit improved my mood, though. She was right, it was fantastic.

"Stella, this is Valerie Wilde," Charlie said happily. "She's a journalist. We went to school together."

"I've read your work," Stella said with a smile, shaking my hand. "And Felix was right, you're very pretty."

I blushed.

"Oh, no, thanks," I muttered, looking down at the half-eaten biscuit in my hand. "I'm sort of surprised you've read my work, but I guess you probably seek out stuff about the area."

"I've been living in Eastern Europe my whole life," Stella said jovially, grabbing a biscuit from the tin in front of Charlie. "My father used to work for the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and then he got chased out of the country and we moved to Latvia. I went to Durmstrang. Staying here was sort of a no-brainer."

That was impressive to me. She'd grown up in Eastern Europe, but her English was impeccable and unaccented. Before I got a chance to ask her more about her experiences, though Pip Schmitt came in, sitting down next to Sofia and reaching for the tin right away.

"Well, Elina wants to know if you're happy about the Cup, Charlie."

"Elina Schmitt?" I asked. "Wasn't she a Gryffindor?"

"Yeah," Charlie laughed. "She dated Russell. Do you remember Russell?"

"Russell Mathisen?" I laughed. "How could I forget? You two were like, inseparable, and you led Gryffindor to victory after victory. Are they still together?"

"No," Pip said forcefully. "No, thankfully Elina is single at the moment, and if I'm lucky she'll stay that way for a long time."

"Pip's a bit protective," Stella teased. "You know, I feel like I really missed out on a lot, not going to Hogwarts. Charlie and Pip tell me lots of stories, but it's not really the same. Durmstrang was a different world, from what I can tell. Karkaroff is no Dumbledore."

We talked for a while, exchanging stories from our school days, eating biscuits, and talking about life at the dragon colony. Felix and Stella had a lot of stories and I took the best notes I could, trying to keep up with their frantic pace. I refused to use a Quik Quotes Quill, which was the surest way to disaster for a reporter that I knew of.

All too soon, however, I had to go. The whole gang said goodbye to me, saying I should come visit again, which I promised to do.

"Hey, we do weekly drinking at the tavern," Sofia said happily. "Every Saturday night. You should join us sometime!"

"Yeah, you should," Felix and Charlie said at the same time.

Charlie frowned.

"Here," he said, standing beside me. "I'll walk you out."

I stood and walked with him, not wanting to go with every bit I grew closer to the main gate.

"It was great to see you again," he said softly. "How've you been?"

"Since the Cup?" I said with a shaky laugh. "Oh, fine. Not much different than usual. Did you... I mean, were you...?"

"Did I help the Ministry?" he said, stopping and looking down at me with a serious face as we reached the gate. "Yeah, I did."

"My sister, Joss, she wanted to, but Emma made her leave and it turned into a big fight," I sighed. "There was a big ordeal about it."

"Sounds like a firecracker," he said with a smile.

"Yeah, she is," I said fondly, brushing my hair behind my ear nervously.

Charlie's smile faded just a little and he seemed to be considering something. I just blinked at him, waiting.

Finally, he said, "You know, Valley, you should go to the tavern with us sometime. Felix likes to make it a competition. I don't know if you drink, but..."

"Oh, I do," I said honestly. Tonks and I had made it our goal when we were younger to be able to drink anyone under the table. Her friend Leon had been a difficult one to beat, but we got there with time and practice.

"Great," he said happily. "So you'll be there?"

"If work permits," I said, trying to discreetly take him in one last time before I left. "I've got a family dinner I have to go to in England, but I think I'll make it back in time."

"Sounds great," he said, watching me. I should have left, but we just kept standing there. "So," he said after a minute. "Good night, I guess."

"Good night," I breathed, and he sort of put his hand out, as if he was going to shake it, but then he moved his arms as I went to shake his hand and he scooped me up in an awkward sort of hug.

I didn't care that it was awkward. I was in heaven.

His strong arms and chest were surrounding me and I could smell the scent of campfire on him. I could have wrapped my arms around his neck and just breathed him in for the rest of the night but I restrained myself.

"Do you need someone to go back with you?" he asked. "It's sort of dark and it is, after all, Romania."

"I can Apparate," I reminded him, although I was reluctant. I wanted him to walk me back. I wanted more time with Charlie Weasley. I could have kicked myself for pointing it out.

"Oh," he said. "Right. Well, I'll see you around, then?"

"Yeah," I said, trying not to whimper disappointedly as he took his arms from around me. "Good night."

"Night," he said softly, and I turned to walk on the other side of the gate. When I was looking at him through the fence, I smiled, thought of my flat, and turned on my heel.

When I sank to the floor of my flat I pulled off my shirt and inhaled it, finding that it still smelled of Charlie. I sighed.

I was never washing it again.

The next order of business was making a note for the Saturday night tavern visits, knowing that I would be going to one as soon as possible.

And then I sat on the middle of the floor, topless, staring at the wall, thinking about Charlie.

Maybe Emma was right. Maybe I had a problem.

But it didn't even matter.

I needed to do something, I realized. I needed to talk to someone, to tell them all about my adventure... But who would I talk to? Getting to England without an international portkey was an ordeal, and getting an international portkey on short notice was an ordeal in and of itself. It was why I wasn't popping back and forth between countries all the time. Tonks was out.

But my friend Zia Dahl, a Ravenclaw prefect in my year, was living in Serbia, working on some legislation for the Department for International Magical Cooperation and getting there by Apparition was actually not too bad. She wouldn't understand my excitement, of course, but it was better than nothing.

So I put on a shirt (knowing that Zia's fiancé wouldn't know what to do with himself if I showed up shirtless), grabbed a jacket, and turned on the spot, landing in some bushes near her flat.

I rang the bell, waiting impatiently for Zia to answer the door.

It wasn't Zia, but her long-time significant other, Barrett Brown. He had been a Gryffindor Prefect while we were in school, but a year ahead of us. If I remembered correctly, his little sister would be a Gryffindor, a couple of years behind Jo.

"Hey, Val," he said with a smile. "Zia's in the shower. Wanna come in?"

"Hey, Barrett," I said, following him into the flat, taking a seat on the sofa where Zia had been storing her books on international legal code, apparently. "No bookshelves?" I teased.

"Not for a short-term trip like this," he said good-naturedly. "I'm going to let her know you're here or she might be in there another hour or two."

I smiled and he took off to the bathroom, knocking on the door and letting Zia know I was waiting.

Surprisingly, it took five minutes for Zia to get out, dry off, and get dressed. For a girl who could take hours getting ready in the morning, she managed to get it together on occasion.

"Girl talk?" she said eagerly. "You look like you want girl talk. Barrett, go grocery shopping. We're low on cheese."

"No we're not," Barrett said, matter-of-fact.

"We are if I say we are, now go buy something and don't come back for an hour!" Zia snapped, but Barrett just grinned, waved good-bye to me, and took off.

"Is it Charlie Weasley?" Zia gushed. "Did you talk to him?"

"I've talked to him a few times now," I admitted. "Ran into him at a tavern the other day and we caught up. And then I ran into him a couple of times at the World Cup, and I went to the dragon colony for an article today and he walked me around the whole day."

Zia squealed excitedly.

"Did anything happen?" she gasped.

"Well, he sort of... he hugged me," I said dreamily, leaning back on the sofa, smiling at the ceiling as Zia squealed some more.

"What was it like?" she said eagerly. "Did he smell good? Is he as strong as he looks? Where did he put his hands?"

I laughed.

"Well," I said, "he's definitely really strong and he smells perfect, like a fireplace or a campfire or something."

"He's probably been charred recently," she said knowingly. I frowned at her.

"And as far as where he put his hands," I said with a grin, "my waist."

"Ugh, you got me excited," she sighed. We just smiled at each other for a moment. Then she said, "Are you going to see him again? Have you got a date or something?"

"Well, they invited me to their weekly drinking party at the tavern," I said casually. "So I've definitely got an opening to see him again."

"Oh, you're going to drink them all under the table," she laughed. "I'll never forget when you and Tonks finally beat Leon Lunde. I don't think he ever got over that."

"No, I don't think he did," I agreed. "But I want to impress Charlie."

"All right," she said eagerly. "Well, when you go, put your hair up because you have such a pretty neck and boys notice things like that. Um... Don't be afraid to outdrink the boys. They'll be impressed. And... and... Don't be afraid to make the first move."

I blinked. Me, make the first move? I'd never heard something so terrifyingly impossible in my life. How could she expect me to do that? My thoughts must have been written all over my face because Zia said, "Look, Val, you've been wanting this guy since as long as I can remember. If you don't make it clear that you like him, you could miss out."

The feeling in the pit of my stomach knew exactly what she meant, but I didn't think I was capable of doing what I needed to do. I was beginning to think that I would spend the rest of my life in the rut.


	10. Family Dinner: Emma

I was in hell. It was my day-off at work and I was in hell. More specifically, I was in the heart of London with my mum, Joss, and Jo, perusing through the shops to find appropriate attire for this dinner with Baldie. Mum had decided earlier that Joss and Jo didn't own any clothes that were suitable for the posh restaurant that we were being forced to go to. I don't exactly know why my presence was mandatory. I guess Mum didn't think that she was capable of handling Joss and Jo by herself out in public but she was probably right, especially since they were both in horrible moods. Neither one of them liked the idea of our mum dated Baldie but Joss was the most unabashed about announcing that opinion to the world. Jo might have been a little more reserved about conveying her dislike of him but it wasn't unnoticeable. She just didn't try to set his toupee on fire like Joss did.

I couldn't blame them for not liking him. He made my skin crawl. It was something about his eyes that made me uneasy. They reminded me of Muggle paintings that seem to watch you relentlessly. It was like they're waiting for you to turn your back so that they can attack. I didn't want to make that comparison out-loud, though, or it might make Jo and Joss act worse around him. My objective was to get us all throughout the evening alive and I couldn't do that if I empowered their bad behavior.

"I don't see why we have to dress up for him," Joss complained after we reached the third shop. The first two shops had been unsuccessful and this one was bound to be too. Joss and Jo's opinion of fashion was vastly different than Mum's and none of them seemed to want to compromise.

"I don't see why I have to go," Jo retorted.

"Because you're part of this family, Josephine, and this is a family outing. And Jocelyn, it's not going to kill you to look presentable for one night of your life," our mother replied in a forced cheery tone, smiling maniacally at the other shoppers as if her grin would distract them from Joss and Jo's behavior.

"I don't see why," Joss informed her. "It's a ridiculous waste. The food is going to be awful, it's going to be stuffy, and it' going to be painful."

Mum managed to keep her delirious smile, "Because it's the first time that Archibald is meeting Valerie and the first time that he gets to spend any time with the rest of you. We need to make a good impression."

"More like a false impression," Jo scoffed.

She was right. This was a fake. It was like giving him false hope that his girlfriend's daughters were civilized, polite members of society. We weren't even part of his society. We were part of the Wizarding World. Everything about this dinner was going to be a lie. Mum was going to say I was a doctor (maybe a brain surgeon if she felt like bragging) and she'd say that Val was an important correspondent for a London Muggle paper and talk about how Jo and Joss attend some prestigious boarding school in another country. Everything about this dinner was going to be a lie and the lie that we often eat escargot at an overpriced restaurant is probably going to be one of the smallest ones.

"I'm going to go pick out a few dresses for you two. When I get back, I expect the both of you to be better behaved," Mum told them, breaking her creepy smile to give Joss and Jo pointed looks. The smile was back within a few milliseconds and she flounced off to check the racks for potential outfits.

Jo groaned unhappily, "Do we really have to do this?"

"Yes," I replied honestly.

"But what if I play sick?" she questioned hopefully.

I snorted, "Come on, Jo, you're smarter than that. Mum'd never believe it and even if she did, she'd still make you go. Val's coming all the way in from Romania and Mum's not going to be happy unless all four of us go. It's not going to be that bad."

Joss and Jo both gave me disbelieving looks. "What have you been smoking?" Joss demanded. "Of course it's going to be 'that bad'. This is dinner with Archibald Francis Loddington III." She spoke Baldie's full name with a high-pitched squeal, the same way that our mother spoke his name whenever she was trying to impress her mates.

"Your impression of Mum is getting kind of creepy," I informed her. "Alright fine. Let me rephrase. It's not going to be as bad as how miserable she's going to make your lives if you don't go. Our mother is the Queen of Grudges. She'd probably use this against you on her deathbed. It's just maybe three hours. You can burn the dress Mum buys you afterwards if it makes you feel better."

"I plan on it," Joss huffed, still not looking enthusiastic about the idea of going to dinner with the world's creepiest man.

"It's still going to be hell," Jo pointed out. "Even if it's only for a few hours. It's still going to be awful."

I nodded. I wasn't even going to try and lie about that. She was right. It was going to be painful. "Probably but still not as bad as Mum is going to be if we don't go. Even if you do come up with some excuse about why you can't go, she'll just reschedule. She'll reschedule and reschedule until we finally suffer through this thing. If we do this the first time then she's less likely to ruin your lives for the rest of the summer. You still live with her, remember?"

"But not for very much longer! I'm going to graduate after this year!" Joss reminded me.

"But even then you're still not going to be able to afford to move out right away," I informed her. "You don't get paid for training and you don't even know if you'll get in. You're going to have to live with her until training's over if not longer. Besides, Jo has to live with her for a lot longer than that so try to be a little bit compassionate for her. You know that if Mum's mad at one of us then she tends to take it out on all of us and that's not fair to Jo. Trust me; it's not worth avoiding this."

"We could just try to wait it out until him and Mum break up," Jo suggested hopefully.

I scoffed, "They're not going to break up anytime soon."

"You don't know that!" Jo reminded me. "They could not even last the week! You're not a Seer! You can't tell the future!"

"No, I'm not," I admitted. "But I don't need the Sight to know that this relationship isn't going to disappear anytime soon. He's obsessed with her and she likes bragging about him. He meets all of her standards. He's a rich, boring Muggle. He's not going to go bankrupt anytime soon, he isn't likely to leave her for a younger woman, and he's not a wizard. Trust me; the only way that we're going to be rid of him is if he dies. And don't get any idea, Jocelyn!" I added after seeing the inspired glint in Joss' eyes.

"We could try to break them up," Jo proposed. "We could try to drive him off."

I snorted again, shaking my head, "Mum's more likely to give you up than she is to give him up. We just need to get through this dinner and hope that it makes Mum act a little less ridiculous, okay? It's really the only option we have."

"Fine but I'm not eating snails or fish eggs," Jo allowed unhappily.

"And I'm not going to let him get through this dinner unscathed," Joss added. "If we have to suffer then so does he."

I rolled my eyes, knowing that this was the best I was going to get. "Fine. If you don't use magic against him then I'll try to run interference with Mum and make her go a little easier on you. And if the food is awful then I guess Val and I can take you out for chips after Mum goes to bed."

Joss gave me a dubious look, "Why are you cool with this? You'd usually lecture us until you were blue in the face."

"Because sometimes we have to unite against a common enemy. I might not condone the way that you treat him but I don't like him either and I know that Mum dating is hard for you," I told them. "We're all going to need to stick together if we want to survive this whole disaster."

And the dinner was a disaster. We were late to the restaurant because Joss and Mum had a disagreement over the amount of makeup she thought was acceptable. He was waiting for us at too small of a table, wearing a tweed suit. Apparently he didn't remember that Mum had four daughters instead of two. He also made the mistake of ordering for us, which resulted in our table being filled with plates of caviar, escargot, lamb, veal, and lobster. None of my sisters or I were relatively impressed and I was going to have to make good on my promise to take Jo and Joss for chips after all. I hated seafood and the idea of eating fish eggs or snails. Plus, whenever I saw lamb or veal all I saw was cute little baby lambs and cows being taken away from their mothers and slaughtered. To say the least, I stuck to the salad.

If being late, having Baldie forget that there were four of us, and having to pretend to be interested in disgusting snob food was bad then what happened next was worse. Much, much worse. Mum got a glass of wine and started talking. Or I should probably say "lying". The more she drank, the more contradictory her story got. I thought that she would have refrained from drinking while she tried to impress Baldie but apparently not.

"My daughter Josephine is going to become a Prime Minister," she drunkenly informed the table. "She's so pretty that she could probably be a movie star though! A movie star! She's too smart to waste her brains on that though! She's going to be the first woman in space!"

"Mum, there's already been women who've gone into space," Joss pointed out, smirking at our mother's drunkenness. She was using this distraction to get away with shooting her peas into Baldie's water glass while he tried to keep Mum from falling out of her chair.

"But not to Mars! No, no, Venus! Women should go to Venus!" our mother made a dramatic gesture with her hand, knocking Val's glass of water onto the floor.

I didn't know if I should be ducking under the table to save myself the embarrassment of being seen with her or if I should be trying to take her home so that she couldn't humiliate any of us anymore. "Mum, you should stick to water," I told her, trading her glass of brandy with my untouched water.

"And my Emma! Isn't she just a darling? You'd never think that she couldn't get a husband by looking at her! It must be that she's so smart that she intimidates blokes. I mean, she was the first person to successfully perform open heart surgery after all!" she lied vibrantly, ignoring that waitress was scrambling to clean up the mess she'd made with Val's water.

"I thought that you said she was a neurosurgeon?" Baldie pointed out. I nearly snorted when he said that. If it'd taken him this long to realize that my mother was drunk and lying through her teeth then he was a bigger moron than I thought.

"And Valerie!" Mum gushed, grasping Val's hand so abruptly that Val nearly jumped out of her seat. "Oh she's such a good girl, even if she did leave so far away from home! She still loves her mummy!"

"Erm yeah, of course I do," Val awkwardly patted her hand.

"She's very important you know," she informed Baldie. "She single-handedly brought the downfall of communism in Russia!"

"Mum, Val works in Eastern Europe, not Russia," Joss snickered.

Jo abruptly got to her feet, "I'm going to the loo."

"Oh, pet, do you want me to go with you?" Mum looked up at her with wide eyed sincerity.

"I'm not a baby!" Jo snapped. "I can go to the bloody bathroom all by my bloody self!" She stomped dramatically across the restaurant, brushing aside the waiters and waitresses in her way.

"Well someone's obviously having her 'time of the month'," Mum commented in a sing-song voice.

I wanted to comment on how Jo's behavior was brought on by the stress of her mother embarrassing her in public and the frustration of having to be there against her will, but I decided against it. Mum's mood could easily swing when she was drinking and I didn't want to risk making her turn into a nasty drunk. "Mum, we should probably go soon," I decided to tell her. "I have a shift at the hospital in a few hours."

"You work too much," she told me, reaching across the table to painfully pinch my cheeks. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to cut back a little. It'd give you a little more time to find a husband. I mean, you're not getting any younger and this is the peak season for you to go husband-hunting!"

I wanted to start bashing my head on the table. I swear, alcohol, Baldie, and getting her children married off must be the only things that she thought about.

"I have a nephew about your age that you might be interested in," Baldie offered. "I could make a call if you like."

Joss and Val both tried to hide their snickers behind their napkins, probably finding the idea of me dating someone in Baldie's family hysterical. "No thank you," I managed to tell him as politely as I could. I turned to my giggling sisters, giving them the most potent Look of Death that I could manage. That shut them up pretty quick.

"You should give it a try, Emma," Mum tried to persuade me. "You don't meet any blokes except the ones that you work with."

"And what's wrong with the blokes that I work with?" I retorted, my irritation at practically being called an old maid beginning to seep through.

"They're weird." Weird was Mum's code word for anything magical. She'd sometimes call it 'unnatural' but usually it was 'weird'.

Jo returned back to the table not a minute too soon. "We're going," I announced quickly before she had a chance to take her seat.

"But we haven't even got dessert yet," Mum complained.

"Yes, Mum, but I have to get to the hospital," I replied touchily, getting to my feet. Val and Joss quickly stood, eager to leave almost as much as I was. "Potential husbands find working girls so much more attractive than the unemployed."

The entire table went silent. This was a jab at Mum and everyone, except Baldie, seemed to know it. I didn't ever say these kinds of things to her but I was more than a little fed up with her prodding about my lack of a husband. She didn't exactly have a husband either and it wasn't anymore my fault that I was single than it was her fault that she was a widow.

"Come on, Mum, let's go," Val spoke up, rushing to help Mum to her feet. "It was very nice to meet you, Archibald."

"Erm yes, of course," Baldie nodded so vigorously that his toupee nearly went flying off his head. "Do you need my help getting her to the car?"

"No, we're fine," she assured him with a tight smile. "I'm sure she'll call in the morning. Let's go, girls."

She didn't need to tell us twice. Jo grabbed Mum's free arm and she and Val managed to drag her out of the restaurant with Joss and I trailing behind them.

"So it is true," Joss commented while the others forced Mum into our car. "You really are my sister."

I snorted, "Was there ever a doubt?"

"No, I guess not," she admitted. "I just always worried that Mum'd eaten your soul or something."

I rolled my eyes, "Mum doesn't eat souls. She just sort of leeches on them sometimes."

She grinned, "You know, you're not so bad all the time."

"Thanks?" I replied unsurely. What did she mean by 'not so bad'? I didn't think that I wanted to know.

Val returned from putting our mother in the backseat. "Mum says she's not speaking to you," she informed me.

Mum not speaking to me? That sounded almost like a reward than a punishment. Maybe then I'd get to go more than twenty four hours without her complaining about my lack of a husband or how she wanted grandchildren in the near future. Dear Merlin, I hoped so at least. I might have loved her but I really didn't like her sometimes.


	11. Hogwarts Express: Joss

**A/N Joss Chapter eleven **

It was an interesting morning, the first day back to school. First of all, I basically forgot it was the first day back, which helped immensely. Luckily, Emma had nagged me weekly to get ahead on my packing. It's almost like she knew I'd be running around like a chicken with its head cut off five minutes before we had to leave. Not that I looked like that. At all.

"Joss! We're leaving in five minutes, with or without you!" Emma called from the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes and made a face. Emma had been awake since Merlin knew when this morning, maybe working an early shift, and had come over at some ungodly hour, demanding I wake up and finish packing. Needless to say, I wasn't won over by that idea. I should not be living if the sun isn't up for a solid five hours beforehand.

I was running down the stairs though a good six minutes later with the trunk levitating behind me. Jo looked up from tying her shoes – poor child still had to hand-tie them. Emma was leaning against the wall by the front door, arms crossed and looked down to check her watch.

"Do you have to push it every time?" she asked tiredly.

"We've never missed the train before." I reminded her, slipping my boots up and biting my lip in concentration, watching them tie themselves.

Jo groaned in frustration. I knew she wanted to do wandless magic now, not wait until she was seventeen. I'd say patience was a virtue, but since I was constantly being told I had no patience myself, I don't want to have the whole pot-kettle conversation this early in the morning.

"What is that?"

I whipped around curiously, honestly trying, to figure out what had caused my mother's shrill shriek.

"What?" I asked.

"What have I told you, Jocelyn, about using m- alternate methods of transportation in this house?" she said, hands covering her face like she was seriously distraught or something.

Jo snorted.

"Alternate methods of transportation?" she sniggered under her breath.

I bit back a grin and turned to look at Mum.

"Mother, it's barely magic! It's not like I'm making it talk or anything."

I swear she gave a pitiful moan at the word magic and Jo shoved a hand over her mouth. I had to be honest; I was suppressing the urge to laugh too. My mother sometimes got worked up over the smallest things. I remember I didn't like the color earrings she got me for my birthday so I changed them and it took Emma nearly three hours to stop her from hyperventilating. For someone who had four kids with a wizard, I'd think she would be a little more used to it. But apparently not, which was why she never liked to go to the train station with us.

"Sure you're not coming, Mum?" Emma asked.

I kicked my sister in the knee sharply with a pointed look and Jo eyed Emma wearily. Why on Earth would we want Mum to take us there? Yeah, when we first were going, maybe, but not for my last year. It was bad enough with my older sister babysitting until I got on the train. I didn't need my psychotic mother there as well, making a scene.

My Mum nodded, though suddenly she looked teary eyed. She surged forward before I could blink and I can imagine I looked like a deer in headlights as she cupped my face and kissed rather hard on my forehead, her tears dampening my face. Emma looked somewhat confused and Jo was blinking rapidly, like she was trying to clear her head.

"This is your last year! You're getting so old now, so big! And then there'll only be little Josephine left and then my nest will be empty!" My mother wailed.

"Uhm…Mum…" I tried.

"How did this all go by so quickly?"

_You probably were too drunk to remember half of it_, I reasoned.

"I'm getting so old! My children are all so big now! No one needs mummy anymore! Mummy's just an old bat now, crying all over you, unneeded." She moaned, fingers clutching my face shakily.

I turned a horrified gaze towards Emma who took a moment to assess the situation before stepping into action, nearing my mother like she was some cornered animal. Hell, maybe she was.

"Mum? Mum, why don't you go take a little nap, yeah? I'll take the girls off to the train and get them sent off and then I'll come back and we can look at…at…"

"I want to see their pictures, their little beautiful pictures, of all of you…so young…so pretty…so dependent on Mummy…"

"Uh, right. Right, Mum, we'll look at some pictures as soon as I get back, yeah?" Emma agreed carefully.

Our mother nodded and wobbled towards the stairs, slowly going up and we waited until she was secured in her room before Emma grabbed under each of our arms and hauled us out the door.

"Mum's gonna be a right wreck when you get back." Jo observed.

Emma hummed and climbed into the car, waiting for us. I buckled myself in and leaned my head against the cool window glass.

"When isn't she?" I muttered dryly.

_Mum's always a mess. _

-0-

I was sprawled out on my side of the seat, sucking on a chocolate covered blood pop and talking about all the classes I had to take if I wanted to be a Hit-Wizard when I graduated this year. Jo was curled up in her own seat, making some paper birds fly around the compartment absently. If I was honest, she was a skilled wandsman. She knew her fair share of spells and was quite good with them.

"What do you think Mum'll say when she finds out?" Jo wondered.

I shrugged.

"She's Mum, she'll freak out, probably go into heart failure and Emma will have to revive her over dinner. She's still expecting us to join the Muggle community."

Jo snorted and watched one of her paper birds change colors mid-flight.

"This stuff really bothers her, huh? I don't understand. If it bothers her so much, why marry Dad?"

"Who knows? Woman's crazy."

Jo nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Subconsciously I knew she shouldn't be. And I should be either. We shouldn't have to deal with a delirious mother all the time. I shouldn't have to clean up after her and put her to bed when she upsets herself or hide her drinks when she's had too much. I shouldn't have to watch my magic around her, watch a part of myself around her, so that she doesn't get upset. But she'd been that way as long as I can remember, and she wasn't going to change anytime soon. It'd get worse, if this thing with Archie turned into anything serious. I'd just got a rotten bit of cards for this life, I suppose.

Jo glanced up at the window looking out at the corridor and smiled, waving. Looking up briefly I saw her roommates, some girls whose names I forgot, waving at her to come outside. Jo spared me a glance, as if needing my permission or something and I rolled my headed, pushing my chin in the direction of the window and she smiled, telling me she'd be back in a minute and heading off.

Her birds were still going in circles about the ceiling, like an intense game of ring around the rosey or something. I leaned back against the far wall and watched them absently, wondering if I could make them chirp too. Maybe a nice tune or something…

"Well, look who it is. My favorite Wilde."

I groaned, leaning my head back in dismay and clenching my eyes shut. It wasn't bad enough that he wrote my every day of summer holiday, now he was barging in on me.

"Weasley, what is it you want exactly?"

I watched them both sit down across from my, matching grins on their faces as they leaned back, all casual and the like. I briefly wondered, if they stayed much longer would the frown on my face become permanent?

"My dearest lady-love seems cranky. Rough morning?" Fred asked.

I narrowed my eyes, feeling a headache coming on.

"And getting rougher by the second."

He placed a hand against his heart, a mock gasp escaping his lips. But his lips twitched at the corners – not that I was looking at his lips or something. Though there were many things that irked me about this set of twins, Fred did have a nice mouth. There was this one little freckle on the side where this almost-dimple would go when he smiled – but I wasn't looking. _Honest_.

"Nice birds." George commented, craning his neck to look up curiously at the ceiling.

"Not mine. Jo's." I muttered.

I watched, bemused and slightly confused, as this look came over his face and he smiled. Not a smirk, not a grin, not something that showed he was about to do something mischievous, but a smile. I had no idea what that meant but it didn't make me any less unsettled. I could deal with the smirks that lead to their pranks, but I had no idea what their smiles led up to.

"Creative." He murmured.

Fred raised an eyebrow at his twin and we may have shared a confused glance but then I just crossed my arms and watched them. I don't know when this whole irritation with them started. Fred and George Weasley were a grade lower than me, in Jo's year. I took notice of them their first year, which wasn't hard considering they were loud and rambunctious in this way that made me want to laugh every time they spoke. I didn't pay attention to the sorting that year beside Jo, but I paid attention to them. But they were always just the kids in my sister's year. I didn't personally know them. I heard about them, constantly, they spent nearly as much time in detention as I did. Which is why it was inevitable that we met there.

I had completely de-haired Mrs. Norris and one of the portraits, some real snobby bloke, ratted me out to Filch. I searched a detention that night and the twins happened to be there as well for turning the newly furless cat an array of colors that hadn't been removed for a week afterwards. Kids tend to bond in detention. Troublemakers-United and all that jazz. I had been in my fourth year then.

But they were always the kids I knew, the kids I sometimes talked to, the kids I had no problem pulling pranks with and covering for and all around playing around with on occasion. But I never considered us friends, like the type of friends who would go to Hogsmeade together or sometimes. I had friends for that. But they didn't irritate me. The twins had never irritated me. And then something obviously happened. Last year I was roped into hanging around them more, sometimes bringing Jo along, and I hadn't even noticed it. But suddenly Fred was everywhere. We served detentions together, got called into the Headmaster's office together, sometimes even ate meals together. And then the letters came this summer. I didn't even know what to do with them.

"So, lovely, how was your holiday?" Fred asked, making himself comfortable across from me.

"Peachy. This twit kept writing me all holiday, non-stop. Can't figure out why."

His grin didn't fade any. Honestly I never expected it to.

"Sounds romantic. Tell me, did he sweep you off your feet?"

"The only thing that sweeps me off my feet is my broom."

"And that sounds like a challenge."

"It's not one."

"Sounds like one."

"Then you should get your ears checked."

"I think they can hear every beautiful word you're saying just fine, love."

"Don't call me that."

"What shall I call you then? My fair maiden? My lady love? Honey? Babe?"

"_Joss_."

"But everyone calls you that. We need a special name for each other!"

"Oh, I've got a special name for _you_ Weasley-"

"Oi, you two want to stop flirting for two seconds before I have to evacuate the area?" George chimed in, watching us with his nose crinkled.

I would've blushed right then, if I did that sort of thing. But I don't so I just pulled back and decided my face was hot because the sun had been shining on it through the window. Fred and I, apparently during our argument – not our flirting – had leaned closer together. I had leaned over my seat, towards the empty space in the middle between the benches and he was hunched forward, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. I swear, he gave me the cheekiest grin right then.

"We were not flirting." I said adamantly.

"Yes we were."

"Don't start with me-"

"I'd love to start something with you. What did you have in mind?"

"Weasley-"

"George, she clearly means me, leave. I'm not into sharing."

"Don't even bring me into this conversation." George said with a shudder.

"I don't even want _Fred_ to be in this conversation!" I cried.

"Denial is so pretty on you." he cooed.

The heat rising up my neck wasn't a blush; this time I was sure of it. I was itching to whip out my wand.

"Leave!" I demanded.

"Why would I do that? We're having such a lovely chat."

"Honest to Merlin, I will knock some sense into you if I have to."

"I have plenty of sense, I assure you. Such as the fact that I can sense how you really feel about me, despite all this façade you put on."

I heard a groan slip through my mouth as I covered my face with my hands which were clenched into fists. Where the hell was Jo?

"Mate, I think she's about to hex you." George said, amusement was completely evident in his tone.

"Have you seen her hex someone? She's very aggressive, it's quite hot actually."

"Well she's about to be on fire in a moment."

Fred grinned at me and winked. He bloody _winked_ at me.

"It's alright, love," he said as he stood. "I don't mind a good game of hard to get. I have a feeling you'd make the chase quite exciting."

George made a beeline for the door, throwing a "tell your sister we said hello" over his shoulder. Fred took a step outside and threw me another wink and a wave. The door closed quickly but I heard the satisfying yelp.

Jo came back inside the compartment a moment later, eyeing the corridor wearily. She turned to look at me curiously.

"Why does Fred Weasley have a long pink and curly pig tail springing from his arse?" she asked.

I grinned this time, winking.

"Because I thought it only fitting the pig should show his tail proudly."


	12. No Turning Back: Jo

No Turning Back: Jo

_Love is a Battlefield _Chapter 12

Outside the train, it was fucking pouring. As the journey had drawn to a close, I'd been able to see less and less out the window, the rain and darkness slowly obliterating any and all landscape. But I didn't care because we were going to Hogwarts where I had friends and magic and definitely no Mum. Thank Merlin, the summer holidays were over and I had _arrived_.

Mum's display of affection towards Joss earlier had been out of sorts, like Peeves giving someone un-cursed candy. During the term, we usually had zero contact with Mum, who of course bloody refused to use an owl. Emma told me that back when Dad was alive Mum was a regular squib, having all sorts of Wizarding habits despite not having magic herself. Or at least she'd known how to send Wizarding post. Molly Weasley and she had even swapped books on gardening. But now during term Emma showed her true maternal colors with constant reminders (or admonishes for getting into trouble, most like) and Val's owl, though taking longer to get to us, was no longer potentially alarming our Muggle neighbors. Absolutely. Brilliant.

And so, I, unlike Joss, didn't mind the rain.

"It's fucking freezing!" she almost growled, her teeth chattering as she wrapped her cloak around her tightly. We were practically glued to each other for warmth, walking as quickly as possible to the waiting carriages.

"I wouldn't want to be a first year," I said over the rain. "Bloody terrible."

"Don't think of the first years; think of me when you have to carry my cold corpse up to the castle!" she shouted back.

We dived into the nearest open-doored carriage, not caring who was in it. Apparently, we should have though because in this particular carriage Ernie McMillian was snogging the face off of Hannah Abbot. The crashing noises of our entrance raised confusion everywhere, Ernie yelling at us to piss off and Joss, alarmed to the point her eyebrows were disappearing into her hairline, screamed back, "Oi! Whatcha think you're doing?"

The pair sprang apart, blushing fiercely. Ernie glared at us and Hannah looked like she was about to become a blushing puddle into the floor. "Whoops, sorry, mates," I squeaked. They must have been missing each other all summer or something and just now been able to get some time alone to themselves. "We'll just leave..."

Joss screeched, "Like hell we will! It's raining buckets out. You two can suck face some other time." As if to emphasize her point, the carriage door snapped shut and the invisible thestrals went into a brisk trot.

Now I was embarrassed. "Uh, we'll dry you off in exchange."

Ernie coughed, still glaring and trying to muster his bravado. "If it were anyone else, I would throw you out."

Minus the first years, everyone at Hogwarts knew it could be potentially life-threatening to piss off Joss. Well, perhaps the Twins didn't believe it and I riled her up all the time anyway. We all still had our limbs. I gave Ernie and Hannah a weak chuckle. Trying to make peace, I muttered the spell and waved my wand. I was feeling a bit wand-happy at the moment, trying to do as much magic as possible to make up for the summer. The cranes on the train had felt great to create.

By the time we were passing the first statues of winged boars, everyone was dry, the carriage toasty. We were totally silent during the ride, Ernie still disgruntled and Hannah looking like she wanted the earth to swallow her up. Right before we were to stop, she stammered out, "P-please don't tell anyone. We h-haven't had a chance and w-want to do it ourselves."

Joss just huffed in annoyance, bolting out of the carriage as soon as possible. I tried to smile kindly at the pair, reassuring, "We won't. I'll get her to promise. Congratulations, you two, and best of luck."

Hannah gave me a small smile and Ernie's grimace softened before they both left the carriage. I canceled the spell and dove out, rushing to catch up with my sister. Unluckily, I had missed the chance to prevent her from battling Peeves. When I arrived at the entrance, Joss was shooting colorful jinxes and some nasty looking hexes at the Poltergeist. Floating well above her head, Peeves was armed with his mocking face, stuck out tongue, and what looked like an armful's worth of water balloons.

"Get down, you coward!" Joss yelled at him. "We're being drowned as it is without your help!"

Peeves blew a raspberry at her. Sensing a detention in the making, I nearly tackled my sister to the ground. "What do you think you're doing? Your spells are breaking the walls!" It was true: several walls were already sporting scorch marks.

Joss was scrambling around, trying to get me off. "The bugger's throwing balloons at us! Jo, get off!"

"You need to work on your aim, dullwit! He's not that mobile of a target."

Peeves rewarded my efforts with a water balloon on the head. He then lobbed more balloons, hitting Ron Weasley smack on the head also. Harry Potter's shoes suffered next. "Oooo!" I said, my own temper rising. "Peeves, get your selfish little arse-"

"PEEVES!" yelled the unmistakably angry voice of McGongall. "Peeves, get down here at ONCE."

I dropped Joss and like my hands were on fire smoothed our robes. As McGonagall ran and then slipped into the room, I slapped on an innocent-looking face and hoped my drenched-but-still-fuming-sister was doing the same.

"Peeves, get down here now NOW!" McGonagall continued once she was righted.

"Not doing nothing!" Peeves shot back at her. "Joss started it. Little squirts."

"I shall call the headmaster!" she shouted. "I'm warning you Peeves-"

Peeves stuck out his tongue again, lobbed the rest of his balloons at Joss and I (which we dodged), and zoomed out of the hall with a final "Wheeeeeeeeee!"

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall, rounding on us students. "Into the Great Hall, come on! Except you two, Miss Jocelyn and Miss Josephine Wilde!"

Damn. We had nearly crept out.

Inwardly sighing, Joss and I lined up shoulder to shoulder, hands and wands behind our backs. "Yes, Professor," I said in what I hoped was a polite voice.

"Would you kindly tell me why it looks like some sort of battle occurred here recently? And why you two are always involved?"

"Peeves was throwing water balloons at us, ma'am, and I decided to stop him," said Joss, smiling as if she was explaining arithmetic to a small child. It was her 'innocent' face.

"We wanted to save the other students from getting wetter," I added. "It's already dreadfully rainy outside."

McGonagall arched an eyebrow at us. "Well, next time, try to improve your accuracy or there will be points to pay. As some other students said to me, the House Cup has not started yet and therefore I cannot take off any at the moment." She frowned. "But let me not catch you defacing the hallways again!"

We grinned. Thanking her, we practically skipped to the Great Hall, not quiet believing our luck. It was crowded and we spotted the Twins already engaged in what looked like a deep conversation with Lee Jordan at the Gryffindor table. As we passed them, Joss bent down close to (what I supposed was) Fred's ear, closer than strictly necessary actually, letting the tips of her hair mix with his. And then she whispered, "How's the pig's tail, Weasley?"

Fred stiffened in surprise, his mouth forming an 'O' but Joss was walking on, sauntering to the almost opposite end of the long table. I grinned at his surprised expression, his eyes almost adoringly following Joss's progress. I ruffled his hair, grinned, and in an almost perfect imitation of Joss's voice said, "Better luck next time, Weasley."

I felt both George and Lee's eyes follow me down to join my sister, who was silently laughing at the boys' expression. "Like babies who've had their candy stolen," she snorted.

My grin only widened. At that moment, the first years came in, all looking extremely wet. One was even wearing Professor Hagrid's coat. Throughout the song and subsequent Sorting, Joss and I giggled at random intervals, thinking of both our punishment-free battle with Peeves and the boys' faces. The male trio was beginning to steal glances at us and whisper to each other about something. Maybe about how well Fred looked with a tail. They always did appreciate jokes.

When McGonagall finished the Sorting, Professor Dumbledore stood up. Perhaps feeling our own hunger, all he said was "I have only two words for you: _tuck in._"

Food appeared on our plates and I immediately gathered as much mashed potatoes I could find. I decided that making a mashed potato castle was much more important than eating.

Joss, however, was stuffing her face. She loved Hogwarts food and she was easily exchanging gossip and news both with her mates and mine. I just listened, enjoying the happy feelings all around, and ate some bits off my castle when the architecture wasn't working out. One bit of gossip caught my attention.

"Cedric Diggory is lookin' handsome over there," giggled Katie. "You going for him this year, Angelina?"

"Nah," she said. "Let him come to me."

"Yeah, on the Quidditch field, when he passes you by on the way to the Snitch," Joss snorted.

"We could interact with him off too," Alicia pointed out. "Discuss game strategy."

"Or let a Bludger pummel him into a pulp on it and afterwards lick his wounds off?"

This set the three of them into a fit of giggles while Joss and I blinked in surprise. Hormones. Make girls go crazy. Maybe Fred would have to inject Joss with some. Maybe Val had too many. I glanced at Cedric, laughing and talking with his mates. He was attractive, I supposed, with his blonde hair and ready smile. Definitely easy on the eyes. His fellow Hufflepuffs liked him too, and you know, it's hard to dislike a well-liked Hufflepuff. People like that might as well have a "You can trust me and I've always got your back" written on their forehead for the obviousness of the trait.

I scooped my spoon out of one of the walkways of my castle, picking up some beef and peas as my gaze wandered back to the Gryffindor table. Hermione Granger wasn't eating next to Nearly Headless Nick, who was looking rather mournfully at the food. The red hair of the Twins stood out, and I noticed one of them was looking at me. I met his eyes and an evil idea popped in my head. Still holding his gaze, I slowly licked my spoon with the tip of my tongue, swirling around the top a bit before putting the whole end in my mouth and sucking on it repeatedly. The Twin started turning red and I winked.

His face almost turned the exact shade of his hair. I didn't fancy any boys at that moment-especially not the brothers of my sisters' beaus-but teasing them was great. Dessert took that moment to appear and I smothered my laughter into a treacle tart. What was with those Weasley boys? Emma had told us about Bill's letters and Val (sort of) had Charlie, of course. Fred was copying his eldest brother by writing Joss every day during the (so glad it's over) summer. Either Fred's eyes had happened to stray to me at inopportune moment or George was eyeing me. Honestly, one of these days I'll figure out how to tell them apart.

The chatter continued until even I was too stuffed to really think about anything but bed. With his impeccable timing, Dumbledore stood up, raising his hands for silence. We complied readily, eager for sleep and next day's lessons.

"So!" he said. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices."

I rubbed my full belly, not expecting anything new. Joss almost belched but held it in at the last moment. Nothing we hadn't heard a thousand times before. Dumbledore continued, "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

Dumbledore almost smiled. In my first year, Joss and I had personally checked Filch's list for the express purpose of acquiring as many items on it as possible. Dumbledore was still talking, "As ever I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

In the same instant, both Harry and Joss shouted, _"What?" _Alicia, Katie, Angelina, and the Twins were completely dumbstruck. So much for flirting with Cedric Diggory. Joss looked like she wanted to stab something.

Dumbledore ignored any titters. "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy-but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

Suddenly there was a thunderclap and somebody banged open the doors to the Great Hall. The silence in the hall transformed into stillness as everybody tensed at the intrusion on the usual Hogwarts routine. Leaning on a long staff and wearing a drenched traveling cloak, the figure clunked into the room on a wooden leg. His grizzled, almost black hair was sporting raindrops and lightening lit up his worn, torn apart face and a pair of mismatching eyes. I swallowed, thinking back to conversations and letters with Val and Tonks, knowing who this must be. Mad-Eye Moody.

For the first time that evening my eyes caught the empty chair usually reserved for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor and everything clicked. I nudged Joss, whispering, "With him as a teacher, you'll get Hit Wizard for sure."

Joss only nodded, her own eyes fixed on Moody, as if trying to absorb his persona, life story, and abilities visually. There might be a spell for that somewhere. Moody shook hands with Dumbledore before limping to his seat, where he dug into the remaining food.

Dumbledore captured our attention again with an explanation: "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody." He and Hagrid awkwardly clapped for the newest staff member, but Moody didn't seem to care or notice. Dumbledore cleared his throat, gathering the attention back to himself. "As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that had not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

One of the Twins, finding his voice after the stunning Quidditch news, could suppress himself no longer. "You're JOKING!" he said, loud enough to reach everyone in the silence. Just like that, Moody's spell was broken and everyone in the hall laughed.

"I am _not_ joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..."

McGonagall cleared her throat. Ah, the mystery of what the Professors did over summer holiday was solved: they told bad jokes to each other and McGonagall was responsible for keeping the students from finding out.

"Er-but maybe this is not the time...no...where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

It was like Peeves had dropped another, much colder and bigger water balloon on my head. The feeling poured into my insides, settling into my stomach as I looked with pale, wide eyed horror at Joss. Joss, whose reverent, determined gaze was fixed on Dumbledore, drinking in his every word, determination and strength oozing out of her every pore, her decision already made in the hard line of her shoulder and partially clenched hands. My. Own. Bloody. Sister.

She was going to enter this Tournament. And she was going to get in. Who else in the entire school was the toughest, most focused on attack and defense as Joss was?

Dumbledore's warning of the death toll was ringing in my ears.

We both knew what the Triwizard was, just as the Weasley Twin did. Val and Emma had told us the stories. Eternal glory and a wheelbarrow full of cash in exchange for spitting death and magical disaster in the face. In the name of international friendship-making three Champions fought for their lives, almost like the Gladiators of old. If that didn't have Joss written all over it, I don't know what did.

Snippets of Dumbledore's speech came through. The impartial judge (do those exist?). The (useless) age restriction. The (fallible) safety measures. The Twins' outburst (or was it only one of them protesting so loudly? Their voices are so alike). When Dumbledore dismissed us I was frozen, mechanically following an equally silent but eyes ablaze Joss to Gryffindor Tower. Dread was creeping in my limbs, stiffening them, making me pass right by the Twins loudly planning an Aging Potion in the Common Room, not even taking a minute to enjoy being back where I considered was 'home.'

Once safely hidden in my dorm and with the others not back yet, I sat on my four-poster and put my head in my hands. Joss would enter the Tournament and I wouldn't be able to stop her.

But I was a Gryffindor! I was supposed to be brave and do stupid, reckless shit like this! Buck up, Jo! Even Puffeskeins wouldn't be this frightened with one of their young entering new territory. Hippogriffs ate tourneys for lunch! And Joss might not be picked. Though she thrived on fights and violence, her marks weren't the best, she slacked off in class, and her most-used words were curses. But surely the Champion would come from brave and mighty Gryffindor? Which of my housemates would I watch almost get killed? What was I going to say to Emma and Val? Would we tell Mum? She'd go absolutely mental. Questions and scenarios bounced in my brain and continued in my uneasy sleep. Perhaps being back at Hogwarts wasn't the best.


	13. I'll Never Drink Again: Val

**A/N: Val's POV**

When Saturday evening came around, I froze in front of the mirror. My hair was limp and wet around my face, my bathrobe was clinging to my drying skin. What on earth was I about to do?

Zia was right. I could go in there and drink all of those guys to oblivion. I could at least try to make a move with Charlie. I could rule the whole tavern with my amazing drinking abilities.

But first I would have to figure out what I was going to wear.

"Why do I have no clothes?" I moaned. "This is ridiculous."

It was an exaggeration, of course. Half of my flat was basically my closet. Clothes were my secondary weakness, after Charlie Weasley. If I ever had to choose between my closet and Charlie, I might even have to think about it, but thankfully that night all the choosing I had to do what which clothes would impress Charlie most.

He'd recalled Primordial Soup, and I'd worn a lot of dresses then, so I moved the blouse rack to the side and started going through dresses. Nothing too fancy, of course, and something tasteful, but it still had to be eye-catching.

I decided that you couldn't do better than a little black dress, and I thankfully had one that didn't wash me out and managed to compliment the bit of a figure I had. I tossed on over it the leather jacket Tonks had given me on my seventeenth birthday and threw on some high top blue Converse and smiled. It was almost like the old days. Throw on some eyeliner and red lipstick and I would have been ready for the stage.

Instead, I put my hair up in a messy bun and dabbed on some lip balm. Healthy lips were just as attractive as flashy ones, as Emma loved to remind me.

It wasn't a long walk to the tavern, so I took it slowly. I didn't want to be the first one to get there. It would make it look like I was overeager to see them, and knowing Felix, he'd probably think it was for him.

Luckily, the whole crew (minus Christopher Henry), was gathered around a long table ordering shots.

And the seat next to Charlie was the only one open.

Okay, so it was between Charlie and Felix, but that was a comparatively insignificant detail.

"Valerie!" Sofia squealed excitedly. "Here, come sit across from me, we have an extra seat! I made sure we had one in case you showed up. Do you drink?"

"Yeah, definitely," I said, grinning. Did I drink, what a stupid question.

Charlie had already been drinking a bit and when I sat down beside him, he touched my jacket.

"Now this, this I remember," he said happily. "Guys, did I tell you Valerie used to be in a band? She was the singer. Voice like an angel."

"Really?" Sofia gushed. "Oh, do you do karaoke? Do you think they'd do that here?"

"Probably not in English," Cameron pointed out in an ultra-calm voice.

Sofia pouted.

Felix motioned for another round of firewhiskey and the drinking began.

It didn't take long for the numbers of drinkers to dwindle. The girls were by-and-large lightweights, except for Stella, who just calmly sipped her drink all night, not bothering to keep pace with the others. I respected her for that. Her head probably wouldn't hurt as badly in the morning.

Sofia started taking the boys out to dance once they'd gotten drunk enough to forget about winning, which for men, was pretty damn pissed.

After a couple of hours, Felix, Charlie, Stella, and I were the only ones left drinking, although really only Stella and I were remotely in our right minds and Stella, although she'd had maybe half as many drinks as I had.

"Valley," Charlie slurred at me, his eyes full of excitement, "Valley, will you sing for me? Sing for me, please. You have such a sexy voice."

I blinked.

Did he actually say those words, or was the alcohol affecting my brain more than I thought?

But then, he didn't say I was sexy, just my voice. I wasn't quite drunk enough that I could convince myself that the two were synonymous. Stella just raised her eyebrows, amused.

Charlie had begun to play with a loose strand of my hair, twirling it around his finger. I could smell the firewhiskey on his breath as he leaned in to look at it closer.

"Your hair's so soft, Valley," he muttered. "You know, when I was playing Quidditch, I was always afraid I'd get too distracted by your voice to look for the Snitch. I had a hard on most of the time. Every time I heard your voice, I had a hard on, it seems. Sexiest voice in England. Sometimes, in class, when I didn't want to listen, I would daydream about your voice and the sounds I wanted to hear it make..."

He frowned and dropped my strand of hair and I lifted my face from my hands (where I had put it to hide my vicious blush) and saw that he looked distressed. Perhaps he hadn't meant to say so much.

"Don't feel good," he muttered. "Drank too mush."

"Felix," Stella said firmly, as Felix put down another shot of firewhiskey and was trying to feel me up (rather sloppily, I might add), "why don't you take Charlie to the bathroom and make sure he's okay."

"Hmm-mmm," Felix moaned, getting up and leading Charlie away.

I tried to compose myself, but I was suddenly unable to get Charlie's words out of my head, unable to think about anything but what sounds he might have been referring to and how he'd get me to make them.

"So you like Charlie," Stella said casually, smirking a little bit.

I just blinked at her like I had no idea what she was talking about, but I wasn't fooling anyone. Stella's grin simply widened.

"Look, Valerie, it's pretty obvious that you've got a thing for the guy. Can't blame you, just about every female who's worked here since he started has tried to have a go with him, but he's always seemed married to his work and never took the bait."

My heart sank. My worst fears, everything Emma warned me about when I left the country... Charlie was never going to look my way because he wasn't a commitment person, or he wasn't a relationship person, or whatever it ought to be called. Really, it all spelled out the same thing to me: My eternal misery.

"But I have to say, I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you," she finished, taking another sip of firewhiskey.

At first, I hadn't thought I'd heard her right. What was special about the way Charlie Weasley looked at me?

"But to be honest," she continued, "Felix looks at everything in a skirt like that, so I'd watch out for him. He's good looking, but he's not worth the trouble. Sofia's still hung up over him, poor thing."

I didn't want to talk about Felix. I wanted to talk about Charlie, but it didn't really matter what I wanted, because not even a minute later Felix and Charlie, both clearly still plastered as hell, came stumbling back to the table, taking their seats on either side of me. Stella's grin slipped away.

Sofia came over and dragged Felix out onto the dance floor before he could start feeling me up again, which was rather nice of her, and Stella, watching me carefully, excused herself. Not that Charlie cared about or noticed any of this.

"Hey," he said softly, a goofy grin on his face. "Hey."

"Hi, Charlie," I said back, a bit shyly, but he probably didn't notice the difference.

"You know my name?" he whispered, eyes wide with awe. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

I gave a nervous laugh as he leaned forward, the firewhiskey still incredibly strong on his breath. The feel of his hot breath of my face was making me dizzier than the alcohol had and he said, "I want you."

I shivered.

"I'm sorry?"

"I want you," he growled softly, pressing his cheek flush against mine and sort of awkwardly licking my face.

He was clearly absolutely wasted, but I didn't even care. It was the best night of my life.

"You actually want me?" I whispered, knowing that whether he did or not normally, he was going to say yes in his condition, so I might as well drinking in the experience of him telling me how much he wanted me while he was still completely drunk off his ass.

"Is there a place nearby where I can fuck you?" he slurred, rubbing his face against mine like a cat rubs against the hand of its owner. "I want to screw you into the mattress, beautiful."

In spite of myself, I moaned just a little bit, but a thought crossed my mind through the hazed combination of the booze and the incredible sensation caused by Charlie's attention. The thought was whether or not it would ethical to take Charlie back to my apartment and have my way with him while he was completely pissed.

Of course, I knew the answer was no, but that didn't mean it wasn't incredibly tempting. The feel of his skin on my face, even just a little bit of him, was intoxicating and my sense of morality and reason was pretty much out the window.

"My flat's pretty close by," I managed to choke out as his fingertips fumbled their way up my legs, trying to find my hemline.

I was beginning to breathe heavily when Felix dropped down into the spot on my other side and said goofily, "What are we doing?"

It was all I could do not to groan as Charlie looked at Felix like he didn't know what he was. He blinked at him, put his hand awkwardly on Felix's face, feeling around it inquisitively, and then said, "I'm going to fuck this pretty girl, man."

"Cool, can I come too?" Felix said excitedly.

I was hoping Charlie was a jealous, possessive drunk, because if these two decided they wanted a three-way, I would either have to put my foot down or go with it for a chance to be with Charlie. My moral compass was pretty frazzled already for the night, and my whole conviction for making a move was pretty much shattered.

"All right, if you want," Charlie finally said with a shrug. "We could all have fun together. Isn't she sexy?"

"The sexiest," Felix agreed, and I decided in that moment that drunk Felix was just as smarmy and disgusting as sober Felix, without the plus of him being together and charming. I couldn't really stand either version, but sober Felix was rapidly rising in my estimation at that point.

Before I had a chance to decide what I was going to do about the two admittedly gorgeous drunk men running their hands all over me in the middle of the tavern, Stella marched up and said, "Sorry to spoil the party, but this has gone far enough and I'm going to keep you from doing something you'll regret in the morning, all of you. Thank me later."

Before any of us knew what was happening, Stella had waved her wand at the three of us and we were hit with a powerful sobering charm, which told me that either she was incredible at charms or she'd had a lot of practice. Since she'd grown up in Eastern Europe, I was leaning toward the latter.

I hadn't needed sobering, of course, but the boys looked a bit confused for a moment before Charlie blushed furiously, taking his hands off me and leaning back instantly, while Felix leaned in closer and said, "Damn, you look even more beautiful without the booze, if that's possible."

"You know what?" I sighed. "I think I should go. I have to work through some notes in the morning for an article and I need to get some sleep. It was lots of fun, hope to see you all soon."

Felix winked at me and I got up and hurried out of the tavern there and then, feeling the need to take a long shower.

What I hadn't counted on was being followed out of the tavern. I was worried it was Felix, but when the pursuant called out for me, I was pleasantly surprised.

"Valley, wait!"

I turned, heart racing again. Had the moment not passed after all? Was he not ashamed of his actions and words? Had he actually meant what he'd said? I held my breath as he rushed over to me.

"I - I wanted to apologize," he said, turning redder with every word. My heart sank.

"It's fine," I insisted. "I had fun. To be honest, if anyone should apologize, it ought to be Felix, but I doubt that he will."

Charlie frowned, shaking his head.

"No, I don't suppose he will."

"Well," I sighed. "Good night, then."

"No, Valley, wait," he said firmly as I was turning to go, grabbing my arm.

"Charlie-"

"Valerie, I'm going to England soon," he said in a stronger voice, although he was still blushing furiously as I was. "I'm going for the Triwizard Tournament, you knew it was happening?"

"I'd heard about it from Tonks," I said with a nod. "She can't keep a secret."

"I can imagine," he said with a smirk that made me feel a bit annoyed. "Anyway, I thought... Well, I know your sisters are in school and I'm bringing in some dragons for the first task and I thought..."

I raised an eyebrow. It was great that he was getting to go back to England and spend more time with his family. I knew how hard it could be to interact with siblings from so far away, but I didn't know what it had to do with me.

"I guess this is harder to ask than I thought," he muttered, more to himself than to me.

"Ask what?" I said.

"Um, well, I don't know if you're not busy or anything," Charlie said softly, looking at me and turning bright red, "but I was thinking maybe you might want to go to England with me, see the dragons in action, see your sisters, Hogwarts..."

I blinked.

"Wait, are you asking me to go to England with you?"

My heart was racing again and I could barely remind myself to breathe with excitement.

"Um, yeah," Charlie said, looking down at the ground and turning red. "I mean, not like... not like a date or something. I don't want you to think I'm forcing myself on you or... I've got a room in Hogsmeade but there's only one bed. You can stay there, if you'd like, or make your own arrangements, and I thought you might like-"

"I'd love to," I insisted, grinning as he looked up at me. "When are you leaving?"

His face brightened.

"Ah, we're still negotiating details and whatnot. You know how it is, leaving the country, and we're doing it with three dragons, so... I'll write you, let you know?"

"Sounds great," I said, still grinning, probably like a loon, but Charlie didn't seem to mind.

"Are you going to want to make your own accommodations, or...?"

I bit my lip. Probably it would be more proper to get my own room or stay with Emma or my mother, but he _had_ technically offered and I _really_ wanted to think that it wasn't because he was just being polite.

"If it's really no trouble," I said slowly, "my mother sort of is spending time with her boyfriend and I don't want to intrude on that, and my sister works a lot so I'd only be in her way..."

"You can stay with me, sure," Charlie said happily and my heart skipped a beat. "Um, like I said, there's only one bed, but I could sleep on the floor or... Well, we could figure it out when we get there. I'll... I'll write you."

"Yeah," I breathed, smiling, allowing him to give me another sort of awkward hug, and I was pleased to find that he still smiled like a campfire, but this campfire had been started with firewhiskey. Delicious.

I walked back to my flat on shaky legs because I wasn't sure how well I would be able to Apparate in the condition I was in. Not the alcohol, of course, but because I was so excited about Charlie. I had to write Emma. I had to write Tonks! I wanted to write Jo and Joss, but I couldn't, not yet, because they weren't supposed to know about the tournament yet. Maybe I would surprise them.

As soon as I got back to my flat and peeled off my clothes, decided that dress was going in a place of honor, and put a little mark on the back of the shoes as a reminder of the wonderful luck they had obviously brought me. Then I flopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling.

England, with Charlie Weasley, staying in the same room. One bed... I had to find a way to make sure we were both sleeping in it.

I was painfully reminded of Emma warning me that Charlie might only be interested in a one-night stand, whereas I was desperately in love with him.

But did being desperately in love with someone mean that a relationship was required, or that I ought to take what I could get and love every moment of it, one-night stand or no? I obviously wanted Charlie, not just as a one-night thing, but if I couldn't have him, couldn't make it a permanent fixture in my life... Should I settle for what I could get?

Suddenly England was looking much more complicated. I vowed to bring some firewhiskey with me, just in case.


	14. Letter to Val: Emma

Dear Val,

I think Bill Weasley is stalking me via owl. He's sent me three owls in the past week. How did he even get them to me so fast from Egypt? How fast can an owl travel in a day anyways? I really hope Charlie isn't as much of a relentless prat as his older brother. I really don't want my future nieces and nephews to be obnoxious gits too.

You want to know the most ridiculous part about it? He asked out me on a date! He says he's coming to England for Christmas and he'd like to make up that Valentine's Day to me! Ha! Who does he think I am? The same naïve teenage girl who turned to mush when the popular Head Boy paid her a bit of attention? Hell no! I'm not the same girl who'd wait for hours on a boy who wasn't going to show up! What an insufferable, arrogant git!

I think spending too much time searching for gold in the middle of the desert has really messed with his brain. Maybe somehow too much sand got in his head and now his brain's all fuzzy. He's apparently forgotten English courtesy too. Do you know what he said? I'll copy the most infuriating letter so you can get a real appreciation for what a ridiculous idiot he is.

_Dear Emma,_

_I hadn't realized how much I bruised your ego with that Hogsmeade trip. I'd assumed at the time that since you never said anything about it that it didn't even faze you. I'm sorry for any long-term damage to your self-esteem and I promise you that it was unintentional._

_With that being said I want to make it up to you. I'm heading back to England for Christmas and I'd like to you out to dinner as an apology. Please send an owl to let me know when you're available. I look forward to getting to catch up with you properly this time._

_Sincerely,_

_Bill Weasley_

That self-important git! "I hadn't realized how much I bruised your ego" and "I'm sorry for any long-term damage to your self-esteem"! That son of a horned toad! How dare he for a second think that he had any affect whatsoever on my self-esteem? Any person who got stood up would be angry! This has nothing to do with a "bruised ego"!

How could he think I'd possibly even want to go out with him? I'd rather snog a gnome! You know what? No, I'll go out with him. I'm going to that dinner and I'm going to show him how wrong he is to think that he could possibly affect my self-esteem on a whim! Who does he think he is? Merlin? Some Casanova who could break my heart because he chose some long-legged blond slag over me? As if! And I thought Percy was the pompous git in that family! Gah! He makes me so mad. I'm going to send him a letter filled with volatile dung bombs! No! Undiluted bubotuber pus! Hopefully they'll make his hands shrivel up and fall off! Wait, no. Do you remember that one time he brassed off his pen pal from South America somewhere and they sent him a cursed hat that made his ears shrivel up and everyone made fun of him? Well, maybe I can get him a pair of pants that's got the same curse on them. This time even more important parts of his anatomy than his ears will shrivel up and hopefully fall off! I bet that'd make him regret ever standing me up!

Anyways, I don't want that Weasley to take up my entire letter. It's not as if he's the only thing going on in my life anyways. For example, I got a new Healer trainee who just started the practical part of her training at St. Mungo's. Mum would love her. She acts as if Healer training is only something to bide her time until becomes someone's trophy wife. Her name is Daphne Williams and she's the worst trainee I've ever had to suffer through. She has absolutely no respect for the sanctity of the Healer profession at all. She almost infuriates me as much as Weasley. It's like they're both tag-teaming me. When I'm at work then I've got Williams annoying the hell out of me and when I'm at home then I've got Weasley up my arse with his bloody owls. Between the two of them I can't seem to get a moment's peace! Mum isn't helping that either though. The way she talks about me becoming an old maid sounds like my ovaries are shriveling up and turning to dust. Apparently I didn't get her genes then, considering the fact that I'm twenty three and her ovaries obviously weren't dust when she had Jo when she was nearly thirty. Oh well. I guess some people just get all the luck. If she heard how Weasley asked me out she'd probably start planning the wedding. Well, maybe once she realized he was a wizard and how his family isn't as financially secure as ours is then she'd probably change her tune.

I don't understand how someone could be as materialistic as Mum. I swear all she thinks about is marrying off her daughters and money. She's like Mrs. Bennett from _Pride and Prejudice_! She's going to have a right picnic when she hears about Charlie. Oh I can see her now. She's going to be screaming about how this ginger pauper stole her darling daughter away to Romania. She'll probably have one of her martinis in her hands and still be in one of her silk dressing gowns, lounging around the house dramatically like the world is going to end. We honestly need to get her medicated or something.

Alright well I hope that everything is going well with you and I'll keep you updated on the Weasley situation. I honestly hope that he gets trapped in one of his tombs before Christmas. Tell Charlie hi for me the next time that you see him and try not to eaten by any of his dragons.

Love,

Emma


	15. She Hid Around Corners: Jo

She hid around corners: Jo

_Love is a Battlefield_ Chapter 15

Sixth year was not a picnic. It was not a cool glass of pumpkin juice under the sun. It was not frolicking through flowers with vain little fairies kissing your cheeks. It had no grand views, nor involve checkered cloth and featherlight baskets, nor likened even to a chocolate frog with a card you already have twenty of.

No, sixth year was more like a five mile hike uphill with switchbacks and, once you finally make it to the top, accidentally stepping into a nest of some very angry doxies while being bitten by a poisonous snake and then being chased by a manticore. _That _was sixth year at Hogwarts.

The one thing I actually liked in our current classes, despite its difficulty, was the nonverbal spells. It was like wandless magic and I imagined it as a stepping stone to it. I loved my wand though. It was definitely easier to use with or without words. Alicia and I shared a bottle of polish and would crack it out every week or two. Just to show our wands our love. But because I loved it I feared being without it. What if I needed to protect people and didn't have it in my pocket? What if I needed to get somewhere or do something? What if I needed to get something off the top shelf and I was too bloody short to reach it? Wandless magic would be so helpful.

Some of the things we were learning were fun. Moody was an excellent teacher, showing us all three Unforgivables and a few of the nastier, still legal curses on our first day. Joss was thriving under his tutelage of 'constant vigilance' and asking question after question of both him and Tonks, who she wrote to (or asked through Val). For myself, I felt more prepared than I had in years in the Defense area. Professor Lupin and Professor Quirrell had been pretty good, but the most Lockhart did was add body warmth to the classroom. His books made him sound impressive, but in person he kind of made Joss and I want to vomit. He did have a certain charm: my dormmates certainly liked him. He was so bloody useless at teaching though.

But besides that how in all of Merlin's hells did Joss even hack it? Weren't my marks supposed to be better than hers? Weren't our free periods supposed to be, you know, _free?_ But no: it was essay this and essay that and read this book and draw this creature and make a presentation and practice this spell until your wrist aches. That and the added nausea of knowing that my sister wanted to increase her workload in the form of a fight to the death did not really improve the situation. She was walking around Hogwarts with a fiery gleam in her eye, as if possessed by a malevolent spirit. She flew both on and off the Quidditch pitch a lot, which was one of her favorite ways to think. I would sit in the stands and work on coursework for hours as she flew back and forth on the field and across the grounds. On warmer days the squid would lift its tentacles out of the water for her to dodge. It would be pleasant if I didn't know that she already had plans stashed in her trunk, parchment dripping with ink about potentially useful spells, plants, and magical objects. To my utmost horror, she had also checked out _Guide to the Triwizard: an Era of Champions_ from the library. It meant I couldn't lie to myself and think the lists were for Hit Wizard training. No, she was going to put her name to the bloody judge and there was nothing (short of losing limb and time in arguing with her) I could do about it. Then again, she hated when I went through her things and I had already done that a couple times.

Will it or nil it, I guessed it would be over in the next day or so. The foreign students were coming tonight and I assumed the "impartial judge" too. The whole school was buzzing with the news and my dormmates were increasing their dotage over Cedric, who everyone knew wanted to be Champion. As for me, my head was pounding with the thought. I couldn't seem to breathe properly when I thought about the normally comforting stone walls of Hogwarts seemed to be closing in on me, pressing against my lungs, buckling my knees, whispering that I ought to _do_ something. But I had no idea what.

So I chose to get out.

Not out of Hogwarts, no. I didn't really want to go anywhere else. Besides, I was still underage and, knowing my sisters, they would probably find any place I tried to "hide." We had hidden plenty of times from a storming Mum: from the darkest corner of our attic to the twisting London streets. London was really the best since Mum most times couldn't be bothered (or really didn't want) to leave the house. Too far away from her alcohol.

Anyway, leaving elaborate and drastic plans to run away from the entire school aside, I was escaping the castle by going to the lake. I headed as far from the Hagrid's hut, the Quidditch pitch, and the greenhouses as possible, to the far shore that skirted the Forbidden Forest. My schedule worked where I had my "free" period coinciding with the early end of classes and most of my year or older were in their respective common rooms studying (or in Joss's case flying around said Quidditch pitch). The younger students gave me a few curious glances when I had walked out of the castle without a bagful of books, but even the ones going to or from the greenhouses couldn't see me now, hidden by an outcropping of trees, more of a humanoid mirage near the lake. I passed another couple of trees to get to a spot where I was certain no one would find me, only to find certain someones had gotten their first.

Damn those Weasley Twins.

"Oi!" I said, trying to see if they would bugger off. "Whatcha doing here?"

They were kneeling over something small on the forest floor with their wands pointing towards it and nearly jumped out of their own skin.

"Get lost!" they shouted in unison, a knee-jerk reaction to the surprise. But then their matching surprised faces realized who it was and they instantly contorted into a shape that in the same moment was both pleased and conniving.

"Jo!" said one of them. "What brings you to this fair glade?"

I crossed my arms and considered my options. I could leave and find a new place to detox from work or I could see what these two were up to in one of the most secluded places in Hogwarts. "I'm escaping work and the castle, same as you."

"You're probably not doing the _exact_ same thing as us," said Twin #2 aka the one who had not spoken before. Both twins stood and put their hands behind their backs, blocking whatever they had been working on.

"Unless you and Joss are more like us than anyone realized," said Twin #1.

"If so, then Merlin help the world," added Twin #2. "I don't want Joss as competition for anything."

"Definitely decreases affection," nodded Twin #1 with mock solemnity, "which he wants to increase."

Ah. Twin #2 was Fred. If they didn't move around too quickly I could probably keep them straight. And were they talking about the Cup? I felt my face go a bit paler and my hands loosen on my arms. My expression must have become more worrisome because Twin #1 aka George frowned and cocked his head to the side. "You alright, Jo?"

I shook myself. "I'm fine. Are you two planning your aging potion out here? I hear Moaning Myrtle's toilet is a better place for that."

"Oh ho ho," said Fred, leaning closer and shaking his finger. "The lady takes a guess. No, our aging potion plans are set. This is something different. Shall we tell her, George?"

"I don't see why not. The rest of our family knows."

Fred winked at me. "Hear that, Jo? Your sister better go out with me for this."

I giggled because these two were ridiculous and was it my imagination or did George go a bit pink at his slip up? It was a bit hard to tell under all the freckles. The twins were covered in them. All of a sudden, I got a burst of nerves that one of them would be picked to be Champion (if they fooled the judge) and more nerves of what Joss would do to them if they were chosen over her. Taming her would be a Task all to itself.

It seemed that George was the mind-reading twin because his frown deepened, etching worry lines around his eyes. "Jo?"

For the second time in the space of five minutes I shook myself. Crushing my nerves into bottommost pit of my toes, I stepped forward. "What are you on about, Weasleys?"

Instantly, the twins had matching proud smiles. "We were going to tell you eventually," George said.

"Hoping you'd take an extended interest in our well-being in all."

"Because we know your sisters fancy our brothers."

"Or at least they fancy your sisters fancy. And I think Joss is fancy."

"And we are embarking on a business venture."

"Of great importance."

Together they finished: "We're starting at joke shop and today we are testing one of our products!"

I blinked. A joke shop? That would be absolutely perfect for these two. I feel a smile grow on my face. "You got money?" I ask.

Both twins' smiles faltered. "It's a bit tied up in investment at the moment, but we won't let that or Mum stop us."

I laughed. I knew all about interfering mums. "I wouldn't let that stop you either."

"Want to see, want to see?" they chanted, eager to show me their product. They let me join their huddle on the forest floor, all of us squeezing around their set up. Atop the nest of pine needles was a silk cloth and on that several ordinary-looking candies, some dried herbs, a small yellow bird feather. It looked like bits of the herbs and feather had been cut off. A small cauldron was beside it, the candies looked they were being crushed.

"We're going to call them Canary Creams!" said George, excitedly rubbing his hands together. "We're just working on the right bird-wizard ratio."

"Don't want nothing to happen and don't want everyone turned into birds."

"Though Snape would make a lovely vulture," I mused.

Both twins laughed. Fred picked up a yellow sweet and offered it to me. "Care to try, Miss Wilde?"

I wrinkled my nose. "What's it do? Have you finished it? Is it safe?"

George's forehead creased a bit. "Mostly finished. Upon consumption you're to sprout feathers and a beak, which then disappear after a short time. Great for pranking enemies and alarming friends! We were just going on to human testing today."

I raised an eyebrow. "On each other? What if one of you ends up living the rest of your life as a parrot?"

"It's only supposed to do canaries," Fred insisted, shaking the sweet at me. "And if you turn into a bird, we'll fix it."

"We got O's in Charms," quipped George. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Uh, I could get a literal bird's eye view of Joss beating you both into bloody pulps."

"It'll be so romantic," Fred said wistfully. "Every man dreams of such a strong woman."

"That's not very nice," I shot back. He's not going to get anywhere with any Wilde sister by being a chauvinist pig.

Fred's face softens. "I don't mean that, Jo. I really do like that she can eat me for breakfast. The world is more interesting with people like her in it. But anyway, try the sweet. We'll take care of you if something goes wrong."

George looked at his brother with a bemused expression, probably pleased that he had been so candid about his feelings. He nodded at me. "Don't worry about Fred and Joss and worry about becoming a canary."

"Yes, think canary thoughts. Might help it along."

I finally just took the sweet, thinking that if I become a bird permanently I won't have to write another bloody essay again. The Twins did have a hand with Transfiguration: they had more or less successfully transfigured their raccoons this morning. And it would certainly make life interesting and Joss's face would be priceless.

I bit it. It tasted sweet, like the Muggle Cadbury vanilla creams Joss loved so much. I sat there and chewed, looking at the Twins' expectant faces. Their eyes were darting everywhere, probably noting all reactions and seconds ticking by.

As soon as the last of the cream hit my stomach, I felt a huge lump form there, growing bigger and bigger.

"Well?" George said. "Jo, can you hear me?"

I wanted to ask him what the bloody hell they just fed me and if I get fat from this I will punch their lights out myself but all that came out was a squawk.

Oh Merlin, I'd turned into Mum. NO.

Everything happened really fast after that.

My head seemed to zoom downward and my arms were jammed apart. Bright yellow feathers were sprouting everywhere, every nook and cranny of my body. Scales sprouted on my legs, my toes morphing together and thinning, growing claws, my pinkie and big toe moving across my foot to form back toes. My vision was changing, everything getting dimmer yet sharper as my mouth puckered out and hardened. And yet more feathers grew. George and Fred were yelling over the sickening sound of bones cracking, reforming, hollowing out. The smell of the forest and lake grew non-existent.

As suddenly as it started, it stopped. But everything was bigger; much, much bigger. I felt lighter than I ever had before. I could hear distant bird calls, a thestral plodding towards us, and insects crawling under my feet. My wand was beside me, looming large like a perch. It must have fallen out of my pocket somehow. I spread my arms to look at them. They were Hufflepuff yellow with tiny streaks of light red in them.

Holy bloody fucking Merlin Wizarding hell, _I was a canary_. That was one way to get out of class.

I tried my voice. I made some sharp, clear noises. Like singing. Oh good, I always wanted to sing.

Not.

I tried forming words in the back of my throat, forcing a short leaden tongue to mold coherent sounds.

All that came out was hard trill that might have been a high-pitched hard g sound. Let's be optimistic and say it was a high-pitched hard g sound. I was trying to say "George."

The great redheaded giants were staring at me, mouths open in shock and faces pale. "How long did you say it would last?" said one of them. Call him Twin #1. Because of course in the confusion of becoming a bird I had lost track of which twin was which.

"About a minute," replied Twin #2 slowly. "It's been a minute."

Twin #1 swallowed. "Uh, just, um... Let's wait another one."

I chirped at them for a minute, practicing my voice. Nothing worked.

Twin #2 came down to my level and slowly scooped me up. "Can you understand us, Jo? Uh...cock your head to the side and chirp something if you understand what I'm saying."

I cocked my head and chirped. I hoped they took this as "yes, I bloody well know what you're saying. Now change me back."

"Bloody hell, Joss is going to murder us," replied Twin #1.

"You think?" I tweeted at them angrily. A thought popped in my head and nearly jumped out of Twin #2's hands. The Champions! We were supposed to assemble at 6 o'clock! What time was it? I hopped down to Twin #2's wrist and pecked at his watch.

"Jo, what are you doing?" he asked. His voice sounded deeper in the bird's ears, almost a dull boom towards me, and his skin was enticingly warm in the chilly autumn. The sound of him breathing was a bit frightening with its might. I continued to peck until he looked at his watch.

"Goblins!" he gasped. "Fred, we've got to get to the Great Hall or McGongall will have our heads. The foreigners are coming!"

The-one-that-must-be-Fred swore colorfully. "Put her on your shoulder and we'll sort this out later. Jo, can you hide in his hair? Maybe behind his ear?"

I looked at George's hair. It was rather long this year. And I was small, both as a human and as a bird. But I would totally miss the foreign students arriving and Emma and Val had assured both Joss and I that their arrival would be quite a show. Wizards loved showing off. And exactly when was the last time George had a shower? His hair didn't look greasy or anything...just...hiding behind someone's ear and in their hair was a really odd thing to do between casual friends.

"Come on, Jo," George urged, poking my feet up towards his shoulder. "We can't risk leaving you here and having something eat you."

Well, fuck.

I hopped up his arm. He lifted his own hair up and I hid behind the fleshy outcropping that was George Weasley's ear. As he gently let it down, it formed a curtain mostly around me, though I think some of my back feathers were visible. Maybe if he kept his cloak hood up it would work.

"Come on, we got to go," Fred hurried. I couldn't really see, but I imagined he was gathering their stuff and my wand before jamming it in his pockets. My poor wand...

There was a rustle of clothing and George carefully put his cloak hood on. It certainly got darker and warmer in here. I peeked out to see if it was possible (I still wanted to see the arrival, damn it), nuzzling my small, feathery head against his ear. "Jo, that tickles," he said, swatting in the direction of his ear absentmindedly. "We're moving up to the castle now, going to join the lines. Hopefully McGongall is too busy criticizing Neville's spell-work to notice you."

Yeah, and that my sister be so obsessed with the tourney she doesn't notice her younger sister missing.

Merlin, we were going to die one way or the other.

George and presumably Fred hurried up to the castle and into the Great Hall, judging by the directions and the noise. McGongall was telling Parvati to get something out of her hair when the Twins stopped moving, presumably getting into whatever order or crowd that was going to process back outside.

"Follow me, please," Professor McGongall said. "First years in front... no pushing."

We were moving forward again, back outside. Then we stopped. "We're on the lawn now, Jo," George muttered. "It's getting dark and a whole lot o' nothing is happening."

"That first-year looks like he's about to faint from excitement," said Fred, his voice audible through the hair and cloak hood. And then softer he added, "Do you remember the spell Moody used on Malfoy to make him stop being a ferret?"

"He used a non-verbal," said George, equally quietly. "Do you reckon we could ask him?"

"He might suspect something."

Joss could probably ask him anything and no one would suspect anything, but (a) I'm a canary and can't tell them this and (b) that would assume the Twins made it out alive after telling her they turned her sister into a bird. Joss might know the spell herself _and_ not kill the Twins. She was in seventh year after all and had been training up a bit in preparation for being Champion. I inwardly groaned at the thought that the training that was making me so nervous might actually save my life. Oh, the irony.

Suddenly Dumbledore's voice rang through the crowd. "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

Lots of students shouted "where?" all at once. I would have laughed if I could: this situation was getting funnier every minute.

"_There!_" somebody shouted. The hubbub broke out again, many voices contesting what was approaching. George began describing rapid-fire under his breath. "It's a giant blue carriage led by blighting huge winged horses." There was an almighty crash that made me jump. "Yeah, they just landed. Hagrid's going to have fun with these. A boy is coming out. Young, blue robes, too pretty for your tastes."

As people started applauding, I wondered when the hell George Weasley got to know my tastes in men. I nipped lightly in retaliation. "Oi! Fine, snog who you like then. Bloody hell, that woman is tall. Must be a half-giant. A half-giantess is stepping out the carriage and wearing some horrendously expensive opals and black satin."

"I'd give her a six out of ten on the good-looking scale," interrupted Fred.

I nipped George's ear again. "Fred, don't comment on the looks or I'll lose an ear here. Anyway, Dumbledore and her are talking."

"Ah, Madame Maxime's her name," added Fred again. "Oh! And look at those students. Seem a bit frightened of us big English blokes. They've got blue robes on, without cloaks. Some have got those head-thingies."

"Scarves," George picked up. "They are so French, you wouldn't believe, Jo. Oh, they're leaving now. Seen enough of us, I expect. Going up to the Hall. Yes, that one is shivering. I have confirmed very cold French people here."

Lee Jordon's voice suddenly made itself known. "Hey, I'm the Quidditch Commentator and I'd appreciate it if you didn't take my job on my year off."

"Got us a bit of a problem, Lee."

Oh that's just fabulous. Lee Jordan-_other people_-are going to learn I've spending time with wings.

But before my aviary state could be revealed, a hair-raising sound was heard. A sucking sound was pervading the grounds. "The lake!" a thankfully distracted Lee Jordan yelled. "Look at the lake!"

George's head turned sharply and he was back to muttering.

"You know Muggle ships, Jo? One of those old pirate ones is coming up out of the lake. I wonder how the squid feels about that. Blimey, that thing looks like death."

"Probably scrounged it from the bottom of something," said Fred. "You wouldn't approve of the decorating certainly."

"Students are getting off via gang plank. Their headmaster looks a bit slimy," George commented. "And is that, is that-"

"Viktor Krum himself!" Fred said. "Ron'll go nuts."

"I didn't know he went to Durmstrang."

"I don't think anyone did. Must keep it secret," said George. "Come on, we're going back to the Hall, Jo."

"Did you say something about my sister?"

I think the blood drained from my little birdie brain. Fan. Fucking. Tastic. Come on, Twins. You can fool her. Tell her I had to pee.

"Hello, love," said Fred. "I, for one, could never talk or even think about your sister when someone as lovely as you is around."

"Shut your face, Weasley, and tell me where Jo is."

"Technically, he couldn't do both of those at once. Oxymoronic. Lee!"

What? Why are they bringing Lee into this? George leaned forward and whispered. "We need Moody's spell. Cover for us in the Hall." Then louder he said, "Come along, Forge. We're needed elsewhere."

"Damn it, Weasleys. _Where is she?"_ Joss said. There was a barely audible strain of worry in her voice. We both had been looking forward to the students coming, and she especially to the following Tournament beginnings. We were going to snark together over it with me pushing down my nerves for her sake. I could hear the other students moving and the heavier steps of older students and Professors around us. Merlin, the last thing we needed was a scene. Someone would catch us for sure and I didn't want to be in detention for the rest of my life. I hoped Lee Jordan had slipped away to ask about the spell.

"You sons of a toad, you know something about my sister and tell me before I break you." Oh yeah: that was her shirt-grabbing voice. Since George had not been jerked forward, I assumed it was Fred. I had to stop this. We needed to get a move on to wherever the Weasleys needed to be so they could reverse it. Or rather, get the information from Moody about it.

"Joss, darling, this isn't really how I thought our first physical contact since writing all my letters to you would be."

"Where. Is. My. Little. Sister."

At her voice, I jumped out from behind George's ear, flapping my wings crazily in order to fly. I fluttered right into Joss's startled face, her hands clapping together to catch me. But I slipped away and it's George's fingers that trap me. "Jo! No!" he whispered desperately.

He holds me with his strong fist, his other hand covering the top of my head. Before she can ask any questions, Fred whispered to Joss. "Darling, we need to move. _Now_. Come along."

Since I still can't bloody see, I only feel and hear us leave the Great Hall, away from the voices. George's hands are hurting me a bit and I inexplicably miss the warmth of his hair and ear. I wonder how he smells.

Pull yourself together, Josephine.

The group was practically sprinting now, eager to get to Gryffindor Tower. Fred shouted the password at the Lady, who I assume, opened despite the rudeness because the next thing I knew we were through the portrait hole and George was releasing me onto one of the tables in the Common Room.

The deserted room was of course massive to me, the fire looking ready to gobble me up.

Joss came down to my eye level. I trilled at her. "Jo?" she said cautiously. "Is that you?" She tilted her head. I copied her and again trilled. I was actually happy to see her. I generally trust my humanity to her more than the Twins. And her following face was indeed priceless, a blanched, taken-aback expression crossing it.

Then Joss's eyes darkened and she rounded on the Twins. She shouted, "You turned my sister into a canary!"

"Yes! Yes!" Fred said, panicked. "We're very sorry and Lee should be messaging any minute with the counter-spell."

Joss's fists were once again into his shirt, almost forcing him against the wall. Maybe she just secretly likes touching him. "Tell me what you're on about, Weasley."

With George keeping eyes on both me and his brother's well-being, the Twins explained.

"You bloody wankers!" she screamed at them. "I swear if you do something like this again _I will skin you alive_."

"That's fantastic. Now, with your wonderful seventh year intellect and knowledge and might, do you happen to know a counter-spell? Be a bit faster than Lee," George asked.

"Merlin," she muttered under her breath, fighting to keep her anger in and not punch both of them in the face. She closed her eyes, trying to even her breathing.

Fred touched her shoulder gently. "Look, Joss. We apologize. Jo ate the Cream of her own free will, however. She chose to do this. And if you could please help us deal with the consequences of her and our choices it would be a great salute to your sisterly bond."

Miraculously, Joss did not snap Fred in half. Instead, she turned to me on the table, opened her eyes, and began doing some complicated wand-work very slowly. She then began the spell under her breath, forgetting the Twins, forgetting the Tournament. Just focusing on me and getting her sister back. My little heart beat faster for her.

When she finished, I heard a loud pop and all at once my proportions were larger and heavier. My senses were all boggled for a moment before the room righted itself. I was still on the table. Everyone was silent.

George chucked a cloak at my face.

I startled and tried to duck, but it hit me anyway. Finding my voice, I yelled, "What the bloody hell is that for, you ungrateful pile of-"

And then everyone could trace the exact second I realized I was naked. "Shit!" I squealed, grabbing the cloak. "Thank you," I spluttered, feeling my cheeks go all hot. I looked at Joss. "I'm sorry and thank you."

Joss nodded and then grinned, somewhere finding humor. "Didn't Mum tell you not to take strange candy? Woman must have told me about 50 times. And you two," she turned to them, "your joke shop idea is brilliant, but if I ever catch you testing things on my sister again I will personally castrate you both. I know the exact spell too. Looked it up 'specially. I don't care if she agreed or not." She smiled like she did not just threaten the possible existence of their future children. "Alright? Now leave."

Fred said, "Thank you, love."

George, face the color of bubble gum, passed me my wand, mumbled he'll come back for the cloak later, and then they both tumbled over themselves to get out the portrait hole.

Joss reached down and helped me up, looking at my face closely. "What?" I asked.

"I didn't get the spell quite right. You were supposed to still have your clothes and I think your hair is a shade blonder."

I rolled my eyes. "Fantastic. But seriously, thank you. McGongall would've killed them."

"It was actually pretty funny," Joss teased. "I've always thought you were a bit flighty, little sister."


	16. Caught Off Guard: Joss

A/N Joss chapter sixteen

Admittedly, I probably should've mentioned my idea to Jo beforehand, thinking about it. She was looking at me more, with this little crease in between her eyebrows, like she gets when she's stressing about something. I wasn't daft, despite what Snape constantly tried to hint at. I could pick up the signs and put two and two together and know Jo was worrying about me entering the Cup. I tried not to take it as a blow to my skills.

She watched me as we sat in the library one evening. I don't normally venture into the library, for starters. Not that I don't value the extensive knowledge in there or anything, but I usually prefer to be practicing things instead of reading about them. Recently, however, I figured I might as well brush up on it. Jo, on the other hand, seemed to be on her last string of sanity.

I could feel her eyes on me as I stretched to reach the top self and grab my book just barely with the tips of my fingers. I dropped it on the table and leaned back in my chair, flipping the cover open. Her eyes were burning into my skin, practically searing it.

"Josephine, I swear to Merlin you'll smell burnt flesh if you try any harder to bore holes into me."

"Don't."

"Don't _what_?"

"Don't enter. Don't put your name in the Cup."

I flicked my eyes up to see her this time and she was still staring at me. That was the thing with her, I suppose. She could be as fun-loving as anyone but in a mere second she could look at me and just have the most intense look on her face. It was almost sharper than Emma's little piercing looks that she'd give me whenever trying to peer into my soul to decide whether or not I was lying about putting fish eggs in Mum's morning tea.

"Jo…don't."

"Don't what?"

Hello, déjà vu much?

"Don't tell me not to do it. Don't change my mind."

Jo sighed heavily and shook her head once, like she was resigned more than ready for a battle of wills, and looked rather solemnly at the table she was picking at with her fingernails.

"Try as hard as I might, I doubt I'd get you to change your mind. It's an impossible task no mere mortal can achieve."

I frowned myself, hearing her say it in that tone. Like she wanted to so much, but knew she couldn't and tried to pass it off as a tired joke. Reasonably speaking, Jo was probably the first person that would be able to change my mind. All she had to do was ask, but Jo wouldn't do that to me.

"Does it bother you that much?" I asked her.

She shrugged.

"I don't suppose…it's just…Dumbledore said people can die in it, that's all."

"I'm not going to die in some stupid competition, Jo."

"I know. I know you wouldn't let some foreign student get the upper hand like that. It's still a thought though."

"Well don't think about it. Then it won't be a thought."

Jo rolled her eyes at me but the tension left her shoulders a little.

"Oh yeah, gee, why didn't I think of that?"

"Clearly, you're not as clever as I am."

"So that's how it is? I genuinely worry over well-being and you insult my intelligence?"

"Don't whine at me, it's unattractive."

"You're my sister, I don't have to be attractive for you."

I grinned, stretching my legs under the table. I may have been preoccupied since Dumbledore announced the tournament, but I hadn't been so out of it not to notice _some_ things. Like certain eyes being made at my adorably naïve little sister during meal times from down the table.

"Why are you grinning?"

"Well, attractive might want to be one of your main priorities right now."

"What are you on about? Where are you going?"

By then I was up from the table, books in tow and weaving through the rows of books. I wasn't far enough away to miss the, if maybe a little louder than necessary, '_Hi Jo_.'

"Well, hello there, love. Fancy meeting you here."

I tilted my head back and groaned, screwing my eyes shut. Of course, of _fucking_ course, I would run into Weasley. He couldn't just stay with his twin and watch him try to chat up my oblivious sister.

"Well, isn't _that_ a sight."

I ignored the flip my stomach did. I obviously just needed to eat, that's why it felt funny. It had nothing to do with Weasley leaning up against the bookshelf in front of me like that, like he thought he was the gift to women or something. He wasn't. He was more like a curse.

"Should've taken a picture, Weasley. It's the only time you'll get to see that."

"Is that a challenge, sweetheart? I'm willing to partake."

"You'll be willing to lose, idiot."

"Ah, sweet terms of affection."

"Get lost, Weasley."

"Only if you'll get lost with me."

I rolled my eyes and turned to walk the rest of the way out of the aisle but Fred stepped in front of me blocking me from escaping. I pursed my lips to refrain from biting his head off and leaned back, a hand on my hip and eyed him, waiting.

"What do you want from me, Weasley?"

"Nothing. Everything?"

"Oh you're a specific one, you are."

Fred took a step closer but I didn't move. I wasn't backing up for this idiot. I wasn't doing anything for Fred Weasley.

"A chance."

"Hmm?"

"Give me a chance." He repeated firmly.

"I'll give you a chance to save your future children if you back away now."

"Our."

I frowned.

"_Our_ what?"

"Our future children, love."

I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling and swore. Honest to everything that was sacred in this world, it had to be legal to kill someone _this_ annoying. No one could be expected to deal with this and not commit murder.

"There is no 'our'. Honestly, Weasley."

"You know, I never thought I'd be okay being referred to by my last name, but for you I can always make an exception."

"Shove aside, Weasley."

"Ah, there, see? Sounds lovely coming from your mouth."

I briefly wondered if Pince would be very angry if I clubbed him over the head with a heavy book. I suppose if I made a mess of everything she'd be a little irritated but…probably worth it.

"Come off it, you redheaded idiot. I don't have any more time to waste on you."

He just kept smirking at me though, which had to be the most irritating thing in the world. No one can manage to smirk and tick me off so much as he could. A special part of his cursed existence I suppose.

"So touchy, darling. Why?"

"Suppose I couldn't still be seething from seeing my sister in winged form, right?"

Fred winced a little but composed himself.

"Did say I was sorry about that though. Which I am, both George and I. Terribly sorry in fact. I would just love nothing more than to make it up to you."

"Good. You can achieve that goal of yours by _moving_."

"Darling you're so feisty today."

I swear one can only hold their patience for so long.

_"Weasley." _

He opened his mouth, probably with some witty reply but I grabbed his shirt and shoved him against the bookcase behind him and the air left him with an 'oof'. The height difference was a little startling, being so close I could see I barely made it to his mouth – _stop looking at his mouth! _

When he regained his breath he cocked his head to the side and eyed me with a grin.

"Maybe I should piss you off more often." He suggested.

"Maybe I should- "

I really wish he would've let me finish. Or maybe that isn't true. Or maybe it is. I'm not sure and really, who can think under this kind of pressure? Who can think when being surprise attacked via a pair of lips pushing rather insistently at your own and being backed into a library shelf? No one can think then. Certainly not me. My brain seemed to be a little fogged at the moment.

He pulled back and I barely registered the hazy look in his eyes as he looked down at me, somehow having his hands moved down to my waist and tried to catch his breath. Which was okay because I seemed to be having a lung malfunction of my own.

"I really am sorry, darling, I would've loved to let you finish, I'm sure it would've been extremely clever and ego-blowing, which I always enjoy, but I couldn't resist the opportunity. You understand. Now, I really must head off before George thinks you've murdered me, which I'm sure will happen once you're back on your feet. I'm looking forward to it. Until later, then."

Eventually, when my mind caught up with the rest of me, Fred was gone and I was still leaning against the bookshelf, my own book dropped on the floor. Jo was peering down the aisle, warily eyeing me.

"Fred ran off in a hurry, thought it best to come check on you. Alright?"

I paused a moment longer before snatching my book up off the floor. Fred fucking Weasley kissed me in the library and then ran off. He kissed me. He fucking kissed me without warning and then made some stupid comment and tore off.

"Joss?"

"I'm going to murder him."

-0-

I could've told them it wouldn't work, really. But I didn't. I'm glad I didn't tell them not to go with the aging potion, considering the entertainment they provided when they burst into old bickering men was too good to pass up. Maybe that's a little vindictive, but personally Fred deserved it and George was usually just as bad as his twin, probably supporting his annoyingly persistent badgering of me. So I didn't tell them.

I watched them from my place at the table, and okay, maybe I was a little too satisfied with the fact that Fred winced every time he sat or so much as moved to get comfortable in his seat. Not that he actually could get comfortable, it was useless, his arse would be sore for a week or so thanks to my hex. _Boils_.

He deserved it though, so I didn't feel bad. Jo was in the dark. As much as I loved the girl, I couldn't physically bring myself to verbally admit that Fred Weasley had attacked me by kissing me. And I most certainly couldn't say that I didn't _entirely_ hate it. Be that as it may, I couldn't let him get away with it. So I made sure he had been watching while I entered my name in the cup, no charms or potions needed. Because I was old enough, and he was a _baby_.

I was a bundle of anxious nerves though, sitting there. Dumbledore was talking in front of all of us, waving his hand grandly over the student body gathered before him and probably saying something mental and wise and all that. But I just wanted to get on with it. I wanted to hear the chosen names, see the Cup chose the competitors.

I could barely contain myself. Whoever entered, whoever won, would be a legend for generations to come. People decades from now, centuries, would know their name, would see it in history books. Besides, if I wanted to be respected as a future Hit-Wizard, I would eventually need a reputation, make my name known, and this would be the perfect way. I'd have a legendary reputation before even graduating.

I laughed when Fleur Delacour was chosen. Honestly, Little Miss Priss didn't stand a chance. Sure, she could probably throw a good hex around, but she didn't stand a chance in an actual dual. Viktor Krum wasn't a surprise. He'd probably be something to see in a fight. My head found the table when Cedric Diggory was chosen for Hogwarts. Resident pretty-boy was going to go instead of me, instead of anyone else with half a brain. Honestly, a Slytherin was a better choice than him. He'd be killed in there along with the fairy princess.

"Cheer up, yeah? Maybe Cedric will get a good bashing for you to watch. That'll make you feel better." Jo said, patting my back.

"I hope Krum breaks his skull in two."

"Atta girl."

I moaned, I'll admit rather pitifully, and pouted. I really, really wanted to go!

And then, naturally, I nearly broke my neck when Dumbledore spoke Harry's name. Jo's hand froze on my back and I could feel she'd gone stiff in surprise. There was this chill in the air, everyone looking as Harry stumbled forward, completely out of it. I wanted to shake my head, see if that would clear my mind so I could make sense of what just happened.

When Harry was gone, somewhere with the other tributes, there was an uproar. The teachers were going mad and there was no one to calm the masses down. Even Dumbledore was thrown, as if everything else wasn't unnerving enough.

People were shouting and angry and others were trying to defend him and some were shouting insults and accusations and I'm pretty sure some of those came from teachers and things were going insane. But looking at that kid, he had no idea what was going on. He had no idea why his name was being called, no idea how a Cup, magically indifferent and supposed to call only three names, suddenly called four.

I turned my head, feeling a prickle on my neck, and met Jo's startled eyes. So maybe I wouldn't be in this tournament, but I sure as hell was interested in it anyways. This was going to be a legendary match to watch on its competitors alone.


	17. England: Val

**A/N: Val's POV**

Charlie had written me a note that he would pick me up at my flat, so I'd given him the address, finished throwing clothes into my bag frantically (I always packed at the last minute) and was just putting my hair up when there was a knock.

My heart skipped about six beats and I bit my lip to keep from squealing excitedly.

According to Charlie, when he'd told the others that he was bringing me along, Stella had insisted that he take me separately to avoid my getting hurt if the dragons acted up, so they got a portkey cleared for us and he was bringing it along. I rushed over to the door to let him in.

"You ready?" he asked, grinning.

I wanted to just jump him on the spot. His eyes were sparkling brighter than usual, his hair was a bit messed up, and I could smell him from several feet away. His shirt was lazily buttoned, so that I could see a bit of his chiseled chest and his arms were uncovered, leaving no question about his incredible biceps.

Was it even legal for a man to look so good?

"Um, yeah," I said with a smile. "Just let me grab my shoes."

"Great," he said as I pulled on my blue trainers, grabbed my bag, and looked at him expectantly. He blinked.

"Right," he muttered, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. "This is it, then. We've got a couple of minutes, so do you want to sit somewhere touching it and wait, or do you actually want to watch the time?"

I hated waiting for portkeys, and it made me thrilled to find that Charlie didn't seem to like it much either. Not that it did anything for me, it was just something else we had in common.

We sat down on the futon I'd set up in the corner, and Charlie set the crumpled piece of paper on Charlie's lap. I looked at it, wondering if he'd really just done that, and he blushed.

"Sorry," he muttered. "wasn't thinking."

To my disappointment, he put it between us instead, setting it down in the space between our legs, which was much larger than it ought to have been, in my opinion, and we both put a finger on it.

"So," I said happily, "is it going to be much harder, bringing four dragons instead of three?"

"Not really," he said with a casual shrug. "It just means we'll need more people to bring them over, so Christopher's hired some temporary people from the nearby area, even brought back some of the recently retired, to look after the colony while we're gone. He can't exactly watch them all by himself."

"Will it be good enough, without you?" I asked. Then I realized what I said. "I mean, you know, all of you guys."

"Yeah, should be fine," he said with a smile and a bit of a blush. "I think it's nearly time now. You ready?"

"Yeah," I said, a little more breathlessly than I'd intended, and not even seconds later I felt a familiar tugging sensation behind my navel and I was being pulled out to the woods near Hogsmeade. I found myself on the ground with Charlie Weasley on top of me, groaning as the piece of paper fell out from between our fingers as he propped himself on his hands and looked down at me, causing my breath to catch at the position we were in.

"Are you all right?" he said softly, not moving from on top of me.

"I think so," I laughed. "We must have tripped over each other on the landing. I'm usually much more graceful."

"That's a lie," he snorted. "You and Tonks were both clumsier than a newborn dragon."

He scrambled to his feet and helped me up. I knew I was blushing, but I pretended it was because of the comment about my lack of grace rather than because of how close I was to him when I was pulled back to my feet.

Charlie grabbed our bags and said, "Come on, Three Broomsticks is waiting!"

I followed him down the familiar pathways and the high street, all the way up to the Three Broomsticks. Rosmerta gave us the keys to the room and Charlie led the way up the stairs and into the small room.

"Wow," I breathed. "I've never actually been in one of these. I never had a reason to stay in Hogsmeade. Tonks did, though."

Charlie frowned.

"What was she doing?"

"She was with a boy," I snorted. "Use your imagination."

He turned a bit pink as he put our bags off to the side.

"Right," he muttered. "Well, I've never stayed here either, but the room's nice."

"Yeah," I sighed. "Really nice."

I sat down on the bed and he sat down next to me. I was shaking, just a little bit. He was closer to me than usual and I was finding it a little bit difficult to breath.

"So," he sighed, "I'm going to have a late night shift tonight, so I'll be out late dealing with the dragons. I... Don't wait up for me. I'll do my best not to wake you up when you come in. Okay?"

"Yeah, that's great," I said happily. "Um, you're not going to sleep on the floor or something stupid, right?"

"Why would that be stupid?" Charlie asked, frowning. "I mean, I don't want to wake you up or something. You deserve good sleep."

"If I wake up in the morning and find you on the floor," I said playfully, "I'm going to be mad at you the rest of the time we're here."

"You don't mean that," he said, bouncing the bed a little. "C'mon, Valley, we should be having fun, not being mad at each other. I don't want you being mad at me."

"Why?" I challenged, smiling. I was trying to channel some of Tonks's method of flirtation. It always worked for her, so why wouldn't it work for me?

"Because I just think I shouldn't disrupt your sleep," he said defensively. "Anyway, I'm going to get going, help with feeding and whatnot. I figured that you could take a walk around, visit somebody, whatever. Do you... do you want to meet up somewhere, grab dinner before I have to go take my night shift?"

"Sure," I said happily.

"Great," he said with a grin. "I'll see you downstairs then, maybe at six or so?"

"Sounds great," I managed to say, wondering if I'd be able to count it as a date.

That thought, however, was ripped from my mind when Charlie pressed his lips to my cheek as he was getting up. I absolutely froze, looking up at him, wondering if I hadn't just imagined that. He turned bright red and muttered, "Sorry, I don't know why I just... Sorry. See you at six."

I really wasn't sure whether to be excited about that or disappointed. Since he'd apologized about kissing me on the cheek, it probably wasn't a date. Instead of sulking in my obvious temporary defeat (Valerie Wilde didn't give up so easily), I decided to find Joss and Jo, would be in Hogsmeade somewhere, as it was a Hogsmeade weekend.

It took me a while, checking all the spots I figured they would usually go to: Honeydukes, Zonko's, the like. They were actually out by the Shrieking Shack, eating sweets in the grass and talking about something as I approached.

I knew they'd seen me when Jo began to shriek.

"Val! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know," I said innocently, shrugging. "It's a nice day, thought I'd go for a walk. You?"

"You came to England because you wanted to go for a walk?" Joss snorted, throwing a chocolate bar at me, which I caught and began unwrapping.

"Actually, I'm here visiting Tonks," I lied.

Of course, the girls knew me well enough to know when I was lying, but they decided to be sneakier about exposing it.

"Oh, good, so where's Tonks, then?" Jo said brightly. "I just love her."

I blinked.

"Well, she's not here," I said, stating the obvious. "I was seeing her, but she had to get back to work, so I thought I'd drop by Hogsmeade. Haven't been back since school and I thought I'd relive some old memories."

That would have been a believable lie, from someone else, but Joss seemed to decide it wasn't worth trying to get me to say what was going on, so she said, "Have a seat, then, and enjoy some of the sweets. How's Charles?"

I blushed, but that didn't give anything away. After all, as far as they knew Charlie had no reason to be in England and I blushed just about every time he was mentioned. It meant nothing out of the usual.

"Oh, he's fine," I said, brushing some hair behind my ear.

"Progress?" Jo inquired hopefully, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin up on her fists.

"No, not really," I said honestly. After all, I wasn't entirely sure what direction we were moving in, or if we were moving in any direction at all. I had a tendency to read too much into things anyway, and with Charlie it was sure to be a hundred times worse. "I'll let you know if anything really exciting happens. So far all I've got is a kiss on the cheek that he looked shocked and embarrassed about."

"You kissed him on the cheek?" Joss said, impressed.

"Ah, no," I admitted. "No, he kissed me, but it seemed like he hadn't meant to because he apologized for it afterward and seemed very confused. You don't think he's like that with girls in general, do you?"

"I don't know," Jo said, shrugging. "Sounds more to me like he likes you but doesn't know how to express it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, sitting up sharply. If there could be any chance of Charlie returning my feelings, I had to know if it was plausible.

"I mean, it seems to me that he's nervous," Jo explained, "like he doesn't know what to do about girls, so he thinks he's being too forward, when really it looks to you like he's not interested."

"I guess," I said, secretly (or maybe not-so-secretly) hoping she was right.

"But there's no way of knowing that," Joss pointed out. "Anyway, have you heard much about the Triwizard Tournament, over in Romania?"

"Emma's kept me up-to-date," I said with a wry smile, trying to hide the fact that I knew what the first task would be, roughly. I mean, really, I had not a clue what they were going to make them do, but I did know it involved four dragons. "Harry Potter must be terrified."

"Yeah, lucky little-"

"Joss," Jo moaned. "Please, just let it go. I swear you were only putting it in to frustrate the twins because you could and they couldn't. I mean, did you really want to fight Viktor Krum for your life or something?"

"I would have liked to have shown that giant bumble who's boss," Joss grumbled.

"Twins?" I asked with a smirk. "Those wouldn't happen to be the Weasley twins, would they?"

"Yeah," Jo said with a grin, perking up even more. "Fred and George. They tried to enter, Aging Potion, but it backfired on them and they couldn't get their names in. I would say they were embarrassed, but I don't think it's possible to embarrass those two. They seemed to think it all a rather great joke."

Joss was grumbling something, but I ignored her, thinking about Charlie. Charlie...

We spent about an hour talking about their classes, the pranks they'd pulled, and the detentions they'd been in. They also insisted on discussing the articles I'd written.

"So they've still not got a clue about Bertha Jorkins?" Joss asked lazily.

"Not yet," I admitted. "And nobody wants to listen to my suspicions. I have to pitch a fit to even get things about her published, so you can imagine I don't get any say on what page it goes in at. Of course, I usually don't get much say. I'm starting to get tired of trying to find that woman's trace when nobody seems to care but me. I did get a letter, though, from your headmaster, encouraging me that I seem to be on the right track and to keep digging. It's nice to know somebody reads my work."

I had to leave my sisters all too soon, and they asked if I would be at the first task.

"Oh, you'll probably see me around," I said cryptically, hugging them. "Take care of yourselves."

I wondered around some more, got a drink at the Three Broomsticks, grabbed some chocolate and acid pops at Honeydukes, and found my way back to the Three Broomsticks for dinner with Charlie.

"Rosmerta," I said happily. "Is Charlie back yet?"

"Not yet," Rosmerta said. "Can I ask, have you two finally...?"

I blushed. Everybody had seen my following Charlie around. It had been Hogwarts's worst kept secret when I was in school. Rosmerta and Tonks loved teaming up and teasing me on Hogsmeade weekends about how I always sat in sight of him, somewhere I could watch him and hope he was able to see me.

"No, we've become friends, I guess," I sighed, "but that's really all there is to it."

"For now," she said slyly, setting me up at a table, taking my order, and hurrying off.

Charlie came in not five minutes later looking worn out already. I couldn't imagine that he was going to actually go on a night shift in his condition. He was smiling, though, when he reached me and had a seat.

"Already ordered?" he asked. "That's good; I was worried I wouldn't make it back before you. How was your day? Did you see your sisters?"

"Um, yeah," I said, smiling in spite of myself at the mention of Joss and Jo. "It was a great day. I saw the girls, talked a bit, grabbed some sweets. There's some acid pops in the room, help yourself."

"You didn't have to do that!" Charlie said, grinning.

"Oh, I was getting some anyway," I lied. "And anyway, it's the least I can do for you bringing me along."

"It's my pleasure, really," Charlie said with a softer smile as his neck began to turn a bit pink. "So, big plans for after dinner?"

"Honestly, my big plans are taking a shower and going to bed," I sighed. "I'm exhausted. You look pretty tired too."

"Oh, no, I'm not really so tired. I've been a lot worse off than this, trust me."

Dinner was fine, and the more we talked the more we realized how similar our growing up was. Sure, he had parents who were living and loving, but in a way my mother loved me, misguided though she was. But he had an extremely responsible older brother, although to hear Emma tell it Bill Weasley was anything but responsible. He had two trouble-making twin brothers right behind him, although Joss and Jo weren't exactly twins, despite the fact that nearly everyone treated them thus. Granted, he had two more siblings besides, but my mother would have had more daughters had she had the chance, especially once she realized what a horrible disappointment we were all going to turn out. She would have loved some nice, 'normal' Muggle daughters to marry rich, normal Muggle men.

When Charlie left for his shift, I did exactly what I said I would, settling in the room, taking a long, hot shower, wondering if I could stay in long enough for him to come back, and what he would do if I did. It was silly, but I spent my shower fantasizing about him coming in, realizing I was in the shower, and joining me.

Of course, there was no way I could stay in the shower long enough for him to get back without turning into a human prune. So instead, I pulled on my nightclothes and crawled into bed, staring at the ceiling for a while before I fell asleep.

It felt as though I had just closed my eyes when I heard the door open, but I knew it must have been a while. Charlie was back, but I also knew he would feel bad if he realized that he'd woken me up, so I open my eyes just enough to see what was going on.

I didn't need to see him properly to know he was tired, the soft sigh he gave told me that easily, but the thing I was more than pleased to see was him pulling off his shirt, revealing his perfectly toned chest. A soft moan escaped my lips at the sight and Charlie whipped around to look at me, but I pretended to still be sleeping, hoping he would think it was just a noise I made in my sleep.

Apparently that's what he took it as, although I could tell he shivered slightly. When he took off his jeans I nearly moaned again, but managed to hold it in. He crawled into the bed beside me and hovered over me like someone gazing down at a sick person, looking down at my face with an expression I couldn't read through my squinted eyes. I realized that he might be able to see the moonlight on the bit of my eyes that was uncovered by my eyelids, so I closed my eyes as gently as possible and stayed still, but relaxed, as though still sleeping.

I thought he was going to roll over and go to sleep, but suddenly I felt a tentative hand gently touching my hair, then the fingers working through it gently. I just barely opened one eye and saw Charlie lift a strand of my hair up to sniff. What was he doing?

He bit his lip, looking down at me again before leaning in close to the still-damp hair at my neck and inhaling deeply. I knew it smelt like the vanilla conditioner I used. Maybe he really liked vanilla? He moaned softly and I almost shivered.

Could Jo possibly be right? Was there any chance at all that he could like me? I wanted to believe it, but I didn't want to get my hopes up. He went to sleep not long after that and I tried to just go back to bed, to not think about it.

The day of the first task was exciting. Charlie and I went down for breakfast and he said, "I can't sit with you. I've got to be there in case one of the dragons gets out of hand."

"You think they will?" I said nervously.

"I hope not," he said with a shrug and a smile, "but I don't know what they're going to have them do, but if something does happen, I don't want you getting hurt."

I blinked.

"I mean, you, as in the spectators," he said, his neck rapidly reddening. "Um, like the plural version of 'you'. You know."

"Right," I said, feeling my own cheeks burning.

I found a spot by Joss and Jo when we got to the stands and Charlie looked at them expectantly. I realized he wanted me to introduce them.

"Ah, Charlie, this is Joss and Jo, my sisters. Jo's the blonde, she's the same age as the twins, I think."

"Yeah," Charlie said, shaking their hands, wincing a little when it was Joss's turn. "Pleasure to meet you ladies. I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh, we've heard tons about you," Joss said with a smirk. "Ah, bloody hell."

I could see two identical, ginger-haired boys heading our way. They dropped into the seats directly behind the girls.

"Hello, ladies," one of them said smoothly, winking at Joss, who scowled back at him.

"Hi, Jo," the other said, a bit softer, smiling a little bit. "Hey, Charlie. Shouldn't you be working?"

"Ah, yeah," Charlie said, turning a bit pink, which made the twins snigger. "I was just meeting Valley's - I mean, Valerie's sisters. Ah, Valerie, this is Fred and George. Don't believe them when they tell you which one's which, they're probably lying."

He waved goodbye and smiled at me then, turning and leaving.

"So," one of the twins said with a smirk.

"You must be Valerie," the other said.

"We've heard a lot about you-"

"From our dear Charles-"

"And you don't look quite like a Veela-"

"So what's the deal?"

I blinked. Then I turned to Joss and Jo and said, "Do they always do that?"

"Yes," Joss growled, "and they think it's cute, too. They think everybody else enjoys the sound of their voices as much as they do."

"Joss, love," the one behind her said, "no need to be coy."

I could see Joss's fingers twitching over her wand, but before she had a chance to do anything about her anger the announcement of the task came, explaining that each champion would be going against a dragon, having to get past the dragon and take the golden egg from the nest of actual dragon eggs the mother dragon was guarding.

Out of habit, I began wringing my hands together, just as I had done every time I'd watched Charlie Weasley play Quidditch. I could see him down there, on the ready in case one of the dragons got out of hand. I wondered what qualified as out-of-hand.

The first contestant was from Hogwarts with dark hair, pale skin...

"That's Cedric Diggory," Jo said breathlessly, and I noticed the twin sitting behind her bristling at her saying that. I smirk a bit. He liked her. He was jealous. "He's a Hufflepuff prefect, Seeker, Quidditch Captain..."

"He's not bad-looking, either," I said casually, trying to up the jealousy. If something was going to happen between them, he was going to have to get over it and make a move, and if jealousy was what that took, then so be it.

"Yeah," Joss snapped, "if you like tall, dark, and duffer. Anyway, I'm looking forward to him getting fried to death. Should be fun."

"That's Joss," the twin behind Joss said cheerfully, "a glowing ray of sunshine to all."

Joss's hand twitched again, but the showdown between Cedric Diggory and the dragon happened.

Cedric narrowly missed being fried once, risked having his head clawed off, and was showing easily that he was anything but the 'duffer' Joss characterized him as, although admittedly without much result. When he finally got the egg, he was rather well fried, but not dead, happily. That would have made for a very messy afternoon.

The next person going against a dragon was a very pretty but very frightened girl, obviously trembling.

"Fleur Delacour," Jo whispered. "Very pretty, but she thinks she's queen of the world."

"The way all the boys look at her doesn't hurt her ego any," Joss snarled.

"Oh, she's pretty, love," the boy behind Joss teased, "but she doesn't have your attitude."

"Say another word, Weasley, and I will detach your nose and reattach it somewhere I'm sure you don't want it," Joss seethed.

The boy seemed to be arguing with himself whether it was worth the risk of quipping back. He must have known Joss well enough to know that she said what she meant because his mouth snapped shut and he didn't say another word to her the rest of the time.

Fleur did decently, but she got even more injured than Cedric, getting her arm nearly ripped off. Madam Pomfrey would have a time healing that. I found myself thinking about what Emma would have said at the sight. But she probably would have had fits that they were putting students through fighting a dragon.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!" Ludo Bagman cried, and there was Viktor Krum, a lot closer up than at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Still a giant lug of idiot," Joss sighed. "This one should lose a leg. That'd be interesting."

Unfortunately for Joss but quite fortunately for Viktor Krum, he didn't lose a leg or any other limb. In fact, he was more or less fine. But that meant, once he had his golden egg and was dragged off to the medical tent after his scores, that the last dragon was for Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

I could feel a shiver down my spine. It was a surreal thing, seeing him there, knowing it was him, and realizing I'd seen him before and not even thought of it: at the World Cup, he had been with the Weasleys when I went by their campsite, when I'd stopped briefly to chat. He'd been sitting there, having lunch with them like any other person might have done.

To my great surprise, instead of trying to use complicated, Advanced Magic like the older students to evade or trick the dragons, he did a simple Summoning Charm, bringing a broomstick straight into his hand.

He flew beautifully. I considered myself quite an expert on the art of flying, having watched Quidditch for years with a critical eye. He was even better than Charlie, although admitting that made my stomach churn. He got out of it quite well, not nearly as injured as the others, and when the scores were all up...

"He tied Krum?" I gasped. "He tied Krum for first place?"

"I know, right?" Joss growled. "He should have had it outright, but that meat-brained Karkaroff..."

There was something about the name Karkaroff that was tickling the back of my memory, but I pushed it aside at the sight of Charlie taking off to the first aid tent, probably to say something to Harry Potter.

I said goodbye to the girls (and the twins, although the girls seemed annoyed that I was acknowledging the presence of Charlie's brothers) and made my way to Charlie.

"I'll see you back at the room," he said. "I've got to help with the dragons, get them ready to go. Don't wait up."

"How long is it going to take?" I said challengingly, hoping I was seeming playful rather than obnoxious. "Surely not three hours."

"No, probably not," Charlie agreed, "but this Horntail is nasty and I don't want to make a promise and have to break it because someone gets barbecued."

"Just make sure the someone's not you," slipped out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop it, and he just looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite place and nodded.

"I'll be back when I can," he called over his shoulder as he started walking away.

I waited up, of course, pacing the room after my showering, hoping that everything was fine with the dragons. After all, the fourteen-year-old was practically unscathed... Charlie would be fine, wouldn't he?

Finally, I sat on the edge of the bed, literally twiddling my thumbs, and that's right where I was when Charlie came in, small burn on his arm, small cut across his face.

"Do you want me to look at those?" I said slowly. "I'm not as good as Emma, but I picked up a few things."

"Nah, don't worry about it," he said kindly. "Stella's pretty good with it, she took care of it. It just takes a while to heal, stuff from dragons, as you could probably tell by my scars."

I nodded. Because I was awake, obviously, he changed in the bathroom and came out to the bed, crawling under the covers beside where I was sitting.

"Are you not sleeping?" he said, slightly amused.

"Right," I muttered, crawling under my own side of the covers, wondering how close I could reasonably get to his warm body without being obvious.

Charlie set his wand on the bedside table, turned off the lamp, and turned back to me and whispered, "Night, Valley."

Before I realized what was happening, Charlie's lips were pressed gently, tenderly to mine, but he jerked away almost as quickly as he'd been on my lips.

"I'm sorry," he said urgently, and I barely heard him, so stunned was I that he'd even done it at all. Then, almost as quickly as everything else had happened he said, "Actually, no, I'm not sorry at all," and he pressed his lips against mine again, more demanding than before, but just as tenderly.

I felt as though the world was spinning, as though the world had frozen in time and was orbiting around Charlie and me in that moment in a bed in an inn in England, our lips molding together hungrily. His rough fingers tangled up in my hair and his warm, strong body was pressed against mine and I just... I just...

"Charlie," I moaned as he began pressing his lips against my neck. "Charlie, we need to stop."

At first, he didn't respond to my words, but as soon as it registered in his brain he pulled back right away, searching my eyes for explanation.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Valley, I... If you don't... I mean... I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I said with a shaky laugh. "That was... wow. But this is going to get out of hand if we don't stop and... and I don't want it to be like this."

"Like what?" he whispered, frowning with confusion, leaning a bit forward. Judging from the previous experience he thought I'd been asleep for, I had a feeling he was trying to smell my hair. "What do you mean?"

"Charlie, I... I've liked you for a really long time and I don't want to just have a one night stand or something. I'm sorry, but if you don't... if you can't..."

"Valley," he murmured, shaking his head a little bit, "I've been crazy about you before I even knew who you were. Ever since I ran into you in the tavern I've been trying to think of a way to make you mine and I've been so scared that you'd not want me because... well, Felix..."

I snorted.

"Felix? Felix is an arrogant womanizer. I'm smart enough to know when to run the other way, Charlie. You... you really liked me?"

"I adore you," Charlie whispered. "No past tense, no wishy-washy liking business."

The thought that Jo was right washed over me briefly before I wrapped my fingers up in his hair and pulled his lips back to mine eagerly. I wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted, but when I noticed that I was out of breath, Charlie was on top of me, and his hands were finding their way under my shirt.

"Charlie," I moaned, "I can't... Not like this. We've not even been on a date or anything and... and... mmm..."

"Sorry," he muttered. "We should probably get some sleep anyway. Early portkey out."

He rolled off me and I felt a sense of loss, so I decided to make a bold move and curl up beside him, wrapping an arm loosely around his torso. To my pleasant surprise, he turned onto his side toward me, putting one arm under my head and using the other to pull my body closer to his.

"When we get back to Romania," he whispered, nuzzling his forehead against mine, "can I take you out?"

"Like, a date?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

I bit my lip, thinking about the things I had to do.

"I'm not sure if I can do it right away, but... but we could work something out, set something up. Is that okay?"

"That sounds perfect," he whispered. "Good night."

"Good night," I sighed, cuddling just as close as I could and thinking of how sweet my dreams would be.


	18. How Not to Have a First Date: Emma

I was surprisingly nervous for my date with Bill. I didn't know why. I'd been on plenty of dates before and I originally didn't even want to go, so why was I so anxious? Also, why didn't I have anything to wear?

I tried to rationalize through my anxiety as I turned my entire wardrobe upside down. It wasn't Bill Weasley that was making me act like this. No, it wasn't. It was just that I hadn't had a successful date... ever. I mean, when I'd dated Owen we'd have an okay time. It wasn't as horribly painful as the date with Levi but it was just bearable. My anxiety must have come with the assumption that this was going to be just as boring if not worse. I mean, it's not like it was the fact that it was Bill Weasley that was making me nervous. No, of course not. That'd just be silly.

"Gah!" I exclaimed irritably as I tossed the entire contents of my drawers onto my bed. How could I really own so little to wear? Everything I did own was either Healer robes or clothes for the wrong season.

I settled on taking an old navy jumper and doing a bit of creative tailoring to make it look like it didn't belong to a man and just wearing some clean trousers. I didn't want Bill to think I was making too much of an effort for him anyways or he might get the wrong idea. I decided to go for a natural look, thinking that he wasn't going to be able to misinterpret that. The only thing that I did differently was wear my hair down, which was for more my benefit than his. I didn't get to wear it down during work and I felt like sometimes that it was going to make my face disproportionate if I tied my hair back too often. Besides, sometimes it made me feel like I looked like an old librarian.

Bill and I had agreed to meet at the Leaky Cauldron at eight. By the time that seven rolled around I was a ball of nerves. It wasn't like this was my first date. It was just my first date with a bloke that I once upon a time used to fancy but don't anymore. It was more like a meeting of old acquaintances. I didn't have any reason to be nervous. Even if I made an arse out of myself it didn't matter. This was a purely casual meeting that I was just going on to prove to him that my self-esteem hadn't been injured that he stood me up years ago.

Okay, that was a lie. He had bruised my ego a bit but I'd gotten over it ages ago. Sure, being stood up on Valentine's Day (which happened to be three days after my 18th birthday) was a bit hard to swallow but it wasn't like I was dwelling on it or anything. Bill Weasley wasn't that special.

Despite my attempts at convincing myself that I had no reason to feel anxious, I was still brimming with stress. What if I forgot to Apparate? What if I showed up too early and looked eager? What if I showed up too late and looked rude? What if we didn't have anything to talk about? What if - No. I wasn't going to play the what-if game. It was going to be fine.

I decide to arrive promptly at eight, a happy medium between trying to go a little early and being fashionably late. My mother'd always said that there was nothing fashionable about being late, just rude.

My stomach was practically erupting with butterflies as eight o'clock got nearer and nearer. I don't know why it was reacting like this. Maybe no one'd told it that I'd gotten over my tiny, short-lived attraction to him. I mean, what was the big deal about him anyways? So he'd been the Head Boy golden child back at school and he'd become a Curse Breaker with an exciting life in Egypt. So what? Being a Head Boy isn't that great and what's so amazing about Egypt? It's all sand and sun with terrifying scorpions running around everywhere. Uck. No thank you.

I felt suddenly nauseous right before I was about to Apparate to the Leaky Cauldron. I had to sit down, worried that if I didn't calm myself down before Apparating that I was going to splinch myself. It made me a little later than I wanted to be but only by a few minutes.

Bill was already there when I arrived, sitting at a corner table. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest when I saw him. I wasn't supposed to feel like this around him. I was supposed to have stopped fancying him back at school! That was a schoolgirl crush! I wasn't a schoolgirl anymore!

"Emma," he greeted me with a smile, beckoning me over. "I was starting to get worried that you weren't going to show."

"Sorry," I tried not to blush as I took a seat across from him. "Family drama kind of kept me a little longer than expected," I lied, not wanting to admit the real reason I was late.

"No worries," he waved my apology aside. "You're here now, which is all that counts."

"Did you really think I wasn't going to show up?" I questioned.

"Can you blame me? The last time we spoke, you weren't exactly very warm and fuzzy towards me," he pointed out.

That was true. I'd kind of bitten his head off after the Death Eater riot at the Cup. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. Seeing the Death Eaters kind of made me a little more hostile than I should have been. It wasn't personal."

He almost smiled before it quickly disappeared, "I'm glad. I mean, I'm not glad that the Death Eaters are back doing pride parades or anything but I'm glad you're not angry."

I had to stop myself from laughing at his behavior. It almost looked like he was as nervous as I was. "No, we're practically not even the same people that we were back then. It's been what? Five years?"

"Almost six," he nodded. "It's crazy to think we've been out of school so long. Back then I thought that I'd never get used to life out of school and now I don't even remember what was so great about Hogwarts."

I snorted, "Please. I remember you enjoying every minute of Hogwarts. You're telling me that you didn't enjoy being fawned over all the way through school? The professors adored you, our classmates adored you, and you were probably one of the most popular Head Boys of all time. You didn't enjoy any of that?"

"Alright, maybe a little," he admitted. "But I don't miss it as much as I thought I would."

"I'm sure that Egyptian pyramids have helped that," I commented.

He grinned, "You have no idea. Have you ever been to Egypt?"

I shook my head, "Nah, I don't get to leave the country very often. I've got my work and family here and neither of them would do well with me being gone for too long."

"How is your family? Actually, no. I'll wait to ask that after I've gotten our drinks. What can I get you?"

I was mildly impressed by his good manners. Apparently Molly had taught him well. "Just Butterbeer thanks."

"Well aren't you a thrill-seeker," he teased, getting to his feet. "I'll be right back."

I watched him maneuver expertly through the crowded pub, headed for the counter. I was happily surprised how much I was enjoying myself. Not much had happened yet but I didn't mind. I was just happy that it wasn't as awkward as I thought it was going to be. My anxiety was practically beginning to melt away and I was very thankful. With my track record, another miserable date might have made me join a convent.

He rejoined me at the table with two mugs of Butterbeer. He set one in front of me before sitting down, "So how's the family?"

I traced my fingers around the base of the mug, "They're okay, I guess. Val seems to be doing well in Romania. Joss is graduating this year and she'll be in Hit Wizard training if she has her way next summer. Jo's in her Sixth Year and I think she's pretty excited to get the castle to herself."

"Aye, I seem to keep hearing about them from my brothers," he nodded. "Actually the twins don't seem to be able to write a letter without Jo or Joss's names showing up. Charlie isn't much better with Val either. I heard that he took her to the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Only my brother would think that showing off dragons would impress a girl."

"No, I'm pretty sure that a lot of blokes would think that," I shook my head. "I think the theory is that danger impresses women. Or at least the men who are willing to face danger impress them. I'm pretty sure he was more eager to show off his obsession to her."

"He's really proud of his babies," he grinned.

"Well he's got to be," I pointed out after taking a sip of Butterbeer. "I mean, he'd have to be pretty attached to work at a job where he get burned and risks getting eaten."

"He's always loved dragons," he commented. "Mum used to read us stories about knights slaying dragons and he's been fascinated with them ever since then. He never understood why the knights tried to kill them though. He always got so upset about people hating them out of prejudice. He never understood why people could feel anything but admiration and fascination towards them."

"And how is the rest of the Weasley family? Or is clan a more appropriate term? Herd? Pack? Brood? Tribe?" I teased.

He gave me a playful scowl, "Very funny, Wilde. They're fine. From what I hear, Ron and Ginny are doing fine. Fred and George are disappointed they weren't old enough to compete in the Tournament. Percy seems to be enjoying his work at the Ministry and Charlie seems to be doing better than fine."

"And Molly and Arthur?"

"Dad's swamped at work and Mum's a ball of nerves. Ever since she heard about Harry becoming a Champion, she's been a wreck. You'd have thought he was her own son the way that she worries about him," he shook his head with a bemused smile.

I nodded. I'd heard about Harry Potter being one of the Tournament's Champions. It was hard not to hear about it. All the Daily Prophet could seem to write about was how he was some troubled youth that tricked his way into the Tournament as some sort of act of rebellion. I'd heard Joss and Jo mention in passing how close he was to the Weasleys.

"I can imagine," I commented. "My heart almost stopped when I heard that Joss was putting her name in the Cup. Just the possibility that she could be competing was enough to make me feel like I couldn't breathe. I might not be her mother but sometimes I seem to forget."

"I'm sure that your mum couldn't be too thrilled about it either."

I snorted, "Like we told her. Everything magical terrifies her and this would be even worse. She'd practically try to storm the castle if she knew. Of course, she wouldn't even be able to find the castle, but still. We try not to tell her anything that she doesn't need to know about the Wizarding World. It makes her worry too much."

"Really? I must be remembering things wrong because I remember when we were younger that she was fascinated by magic. I remember her using to ask Mum all sorts of questions about the charms that she used to do all the housework whenever she and your dad brought you and your sisters over. She didn't seem to be terrified of magic then," he mused.

I diverted my eyes to the table, distracting myself with my glass, "After Dad died, she never looked at magic the same way. I think she saw magic as his murderer, not the actual people who did it."

"Oh Merlin, Emma, I'm so sorry. That was insensitive," he apologized quickly. "I shouldn't –"

I waved him off with a weak smile, "No worries. It's practically ancient history."

He shook his head dubiously, "I don't believe that."

I opened my mouth to reply but I was interrupted. "Emma?"

I looked up to see Levi and one of his mates staring at me like I'd just committed treason. "Wotcher," I greeted them civilly.

"This is Emma?" Levi's mate questioned in surprised, surveying me with drunken wide eyes.

"Emma, this is my mate, Anthony Mapp," Levi introduced, turning pink from Anthony's behavior. "Please excuse him, he's a tad smashed."

"Nice to meet you, Anthony. Levi, this is Bill Weasley," I politely replied. "Levi and I work together at St. Mungo's."

Anthony let out an indignant scoff, "Oh you're good, aren't you? You're a talented little slag. Tell me, have you run out of men to manipulate at the hospital so now you have to expand your horizon?"

I blinked several times, unsure of what he was talking about. I'd never been called a slag before by a stranger. "Pardon?"

"Anthony, don't –" Levi uneasily put a hand on Anthony's shoulder.

Anthony shrugged him off. "So do you have a heart or is it just made of ice? You know, you're worse than those girls who tease men with sex. You tease men with relationships! You're a pathetic excuse for a human being!" he spat judgmentally at me.

I looked at Levi for some sort of clarification. What had Levi told him that made him think I was a heartless tease? "I think you misunderstand," I managed to slowly tell him.

He scoffed, "Yeah right. I know all about your kind. You're a Healer, right? I bet you try to look all wholesome and sweet but you only use that image to break men's hearts! So do you just hate men or do you have some sort of ego that can only be satisfied with making men your bitches?"

I didn't even know where to begin to respond to that. Luckily Bill managed to before I had to. "Alright, mate, you need to back off her," Bill told him in a forced calm tone.

He rolled in his eyes in a dramatic, drunken fashion. "You're just another link in the chain, mate. You're just another bloke that this bint decided to play with."

Bill got to his feet, his chair screeching against the floor as he pushed it away, "What did you just call her?"

Anthony straightened up, looking him in the eye. "Bint," he replied, tossing the contents of his glass at me for dramatic effect.

The smell of firewhiskey burnt my nose, causing me to cough. No one'd ever purposely thrown their drink at me. I'd had loads of people accidently spill things on me but it'd never been on purpose.

I apparently wasn't the only one who was offended. Bill literally lunged at him, knocking over the table. I watched in horror as the two of them went flying to the floor. I'd never witnesses a bar fight before. I'd dealt with duels in the waiting room at the hospital but never Muggle fighting in a bar. I guess this first date was going to have a lot for more firsts for me than I expected.

I tried to shake away the shock, jumping to my feet, "Bill! Bill, stop!" I didn't know what to do. I was equipped to save people who were dying in front of me, not separate fighting blokes.

Levi and I looked at each other, both of us useless at trying to break up the fight in front of us. I didn't have a prayer at prying the two of them apart by hand and my mind went blank when I tried to think of a proper spell. I might try to force them apart and accidently end up turning them into peacocks.

Tom, the barman, was obviously a little more experienced with this than Levi and I. He had Anthony and Bill pried apart before either one of us could even try to get our act together. Tom's spell violently threw Bill and Anthony several feet away from each other. I rushed around the table to help Bill to his feet, feeling the strange need to shield him from as much of Tom's rage as I could. The need must have come from a sense of gratitude. Why else would I feel that way? It really was the only reason, right? Of course.

"Out of my pub!" Tom barked at us, waving his wand at us angry. "Get out before I call the Ministry!"

I grasped Bill's wrist, pulling him towards the pub door. I left Levi to deal with Anthony, making getting Bill out of the pub my only priority. It was bad enough that Bill had to deal with my problems for me and I didn't want to have to add the Ministry to that.

I yanked Bill out onto the London street, catching the first glimpse of Bill's injuries. His bottom lip was split and there was the beginning of a bruise around his left eye. His white shirt had drops of blood down the front. "I'm taking you back to my flat," I informed him. "Your injuries need to be looked at."

"I'm fine," he assured me.

"Just humor me, okay? I'm the licensed Healer here and this is my field of expertise so just trust me on this. Besides, I'm not sending you home to your mother looking like you just got into a big Muggle brawl at a pub," I told him.

"I'm pretty sure I just did get into a Muggle brawl at a pub," he pointed out.

"Yes, but she doesn't need to know it, and you don't need to look it. She's doing enough worrying and this would add more unnecessary stress," I reasoned. "Now I'm not taking no for an answer so I can either Heal you at my flat or in the middle of the street. Mind you, the street option is going to be more painful."

"Fine, if you're hell-bent on taking me home then I won't stop you," he conceded with a grin.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Haha. You're so hysterical. Now don't splinch yourself while we're Apparating." I focused on my apartment's living room, ignoring the discomforting feeling of being compacted and crushed. I always hated the feeling of Apparating but my apartment wasn't connected to the Floo Network and it was too far to walk.

We both arrived in my apartment in one piece, despite Bill's previous injuries. "Sit," I told him, pointing to the sofa. "I'll be right back."

I crossed through the living room, heading into the bathroom. I took my well-stocked Healing supply kit from underneath the sink, setting it on the counter. I took a half-empty container of cream to speed the bruises' healing process. I liked to always keep some Healing supplies around for just this sort of occasion. Well, I'd never had to use it after a fist fight in a pub but Joss and Jo always managed to get themselves in scrapes of some sort that needed some level of Healing help.

I returned back to the living room, where Bill was waiting obediently on the sofa with an amused expression. "What?" I questioned.

"Your apartment is just so Muggle," he informed me. "I was thinking about my dad's fascination with Muggles and this place would be like some sort of wonderland for him."

I looked around my apartment. It was in a Muggle building and I had all the Muggle utilities that he probably didn't bother with. I shrugged, "My mum's a Muggle and she was very avid that I try to live like a Muggle as much as I can. I figure that since I work in the Wizarding World that I could handle not living in too magical of a place. Besides, I spend so much time at her house that that it made the transition between magic and Muggle easier."

"Why do you spend so much time with your mum?" he inquired curiously.

"She's lonely," I answered softly, diverting my eyes to the container of salve I was trying to open. "Joss and Jo are back at school now and Val's in Romania. She's got a boyfriend but he's a bit of a flake. Or rather she's a bit of a flake around him."

"You don't like him, do you?" It wasn't much of a question. It was more like he was confirming something that he already knew.

"None of us do," I replied briskly. "I'm going to put some salve on your eye, alright? It's going to be cold."

"I can handle it," he assured me.

I kneeled in front of him, ready to slug him if he made any perverted comment. He might have been in this state because of me but that didn't mean that I was going to tolerate any sexual harassment. "I'm sorry," I finally admitted, dabbing a bit of the salve onto my index finger. "I'm sorry that you had to take care of things at the pub."

"Don't worry about," he reassured me. "It's fine."

"No it isn't," I shook my head, beginning to apply a thin coat of the salve onto his nearly purple eye.

"You're not used to having people do things for you, are you?"

I ignored his question, not knowing what to say. I continued to dab the salve along his eye, focusing only on the work ahead of me.

"So do you get a lot of practice Healing bruises at St. Mungo's?" he changed the subject when he noticed I wasn't going to answer.

"No," I replied, spreading the salve on his bruised knuckles. "I work in the Creature-Induced Injuries Department so I usually deal with bites and burns. Most of my experience of Healing bruises comes from living at my mum's house. Joss and Jo always seemed to need some sort of Healer's attention."

"Emma, is – Is your mother abusive?" he inquire carefully, looking uncharacteristically sincere for the second time on this date.

I couldn't help but laugh. Once I stopped laughing, though, I felt like I couldn't stop. The idea of my mother being abusive was definitely laughable. None of us would have tolerated it. "No," I assured him. "My mother is a lot of things but abusive isn't one of them. Trust me, if she was then I would've filed for custody of my sisters after I graduated."

"You're really protective of them, aren't you?"

"I'm the oldest," I reminded him. "Aren't you protective of your little siblings?"

"Not like you apparently," he replied.

I shrugged, returning back to dabbing the salve onto his bruised hands, "Well growing up for you must have been different. You still have two parents. You didn't have to be as protective of them because you had parents to do that for you. After my dad died – Well, that wasn't a luxury we could afford at my house. Dad was dead and Mum was a useless parent on her own. Actually, she's still pretty useless at parenting now. Joss and Jo were tiny. They still needed protecting and parenting after Dad was gone, if not more." I noticed that I was rambling and I tried to busy myself with spreading the salve on nonexistent bruises. I didn't generally open up much about my family, especially not on first dates with blokes I hadn't seen in years.

"So you took over parenting them." It wasn't a question, it was an observation.

I nodded, "I didn't have a choice. Val and I did what we could, considering that we were eight and ten."

"What – What happened to your mum?" he inquired softly.

I shrugged again as nonchalantly as I could manage, "Well she changed. She became almost superficial in a way. She became obsessed with shunning magic from our lives. She became vain somehow. She thinks appearances are more important than anything. Right now she's dating Archibald Francis Loddington III. He's the most boring person in the world but she's obsessed with his status and bank account. I don't know if her fascination with martinis is clouding her judgment or if it's her way of coping with living such an awful life."

"She drinks?"

I nodded, "I'd probably drink too if I was dating that horrid man."

"I'm sorry."

I shook my head, "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

"No, I'm sorry that I didn't know. I would've acted a lot different," he told me. "I wish I could've helped."

I shrugged yet again. With all the shrugging I was doing that night I was surprised that my shoulders weren't sore. "There really wasn't much you could've done. Your mum tried to help after my dad died. I remember she came over once with a roast a few days after the funeral. My mother chased her away with a broom, telling her that she wasn't welcome in our home anymore. I remember my sisters and I being really disappointed too. Our food supply was gone at that point and Mum refused to leave the house to go to do any grocery shopping."

"You were going hungry?" The idea must have seemed almost unfathomable to him. His mum was an incredible cook and I knew that she made sure her family never went hungry.

"Only for a little while. Eventually Val and I couldn't listen to Jo and Joss cry about being hungry. One morning I left Val with the kids, took some money from my mum's purse and our wagon from the backyard and walked to the store. Jo and Joss were so excited when I came home with a wagon full of groceries. They acted like they'd never seen food before," I laughed at the memory.

"How far was the store to your house?"

"About a quarter of a mile or so," I replied.

"But where was your family? Didn't your aunts or uncles or grandparents take care of you?"

"My parents were only children. My dad's parents died years ago and my mum doesn't talk to her parents. They didn't approve of her marrying Dad. I've never met any of my grandparents actually. We didn't have any family to help out."

He wrapped his arms securely around my shoulders, surprising me with the sudden affectionate move. I didn't mind as much as I thought I would. I didn't really get hugged very often. Joss and Jo went to Val for their physical affection needs and I wasn't really a hugging kind of person with my mates. The last time that I'd been held like this by a man was probably before my father died.

"I'm sorry," he told me, resting his chin on the top of my head. "I'm sorry that this happened to you. I'm sorry that I didn't know. I wish I could have done something to help. Now that I know, though, it makes a lot more sense. Things you used to do, things you used to say back in school. Now I get it. I just wish I'd known earlier."

"You know, you're going to smell like Firewhiskey now." Really? He said all those sincere things and all I could talk about was how I was going to make him smell like Firewhiskey? Merlin, I really was lacking social skills.

He chuckled, obviously finding my obscure choice of words more entertaining than I did, "I'll survive."

I pulled away from him, "I'm going to go change. Try not to hurt yourself while I'm gone, okay?"

He gave me a playfully sloppy salute, "Yes ma'am."

I rolled my eyes at him. He recovered better than I did. I always felt awkward after having serious conversations and I don't think I could have been making jokes so quickly after rambling my entire life story to him. Well at least most of it. I got to my feet, securely twisting the cap back onto the container of salve.

I shook my head the whole way back into my bedroom. I set the salve back in the master bathroom before trying to find another suitable shirt to wear. I'd had enough trouble trying to find the shirt I was wearing in the first place and now I had to find yet another thing to wear. Why couldn't I have as many clothes as Val? She practically had an entire department store worth of clothes in her closet.

I found myself wanting something a little more date-like than the jumper I was wearing earlier. I wanted to make a _little _more of an effort than before. I mean, he'd gotten into a fist fight to stop a drunken bloke from insulting me. Didn't that deserve a little more effort on my point? Of course it did.

I ended up in a slightly more low-cut purple sweater that was more tasteful than revealing. I liked talking to him and if I wore something that made my chest look like it was about to fall out then talking would probably be the last thing on his mind.

I was giving myself one last look-over when I heard the sound of glass breaking back in the living room. My maternal instincts took over and I was rushing back into the living room. Bill was still sitting on the sofa, laughing hysterically at my expense. "You're really too easy," he informed me through his laughter.

I scowled at him, "William Weasley, that is not funny!"

"You sound like my mother," he informed, getting to his feet.

I opened my mouth to argue but I never got the opportunity. His lips immediately crashed into mine, silencing any chance at speaking. His mouth was gone within seconds but it was still just long enough to shock me into silence. Should I have been worried that he kissed me right after comparing me to his mother?

He rustled my hair almost in a big brother fashion, confusing me even more. "I have to go. I'd like to see you again before I leave for Egypt again. Can I see you on Boxing Day?"

I nodded, too confused to argue with him.

"I'll see you later, Emma." He was gone with a loud _POP!_ What the fuck had just happened?


	19. Denial: Joss

A/N Joss

I shifted a little uneasily on my feet, wiggling my toes and pursing my lips in dissatisfaction. My feet felt weird, bare on the unfamiliar carpet, and there was a chill that spread over my bare legs. I felt uncomfortable, at best.

But Jo insisted it would be fun. She told me she really wanted to go and I would have fun. There'd be dancing and music and new people to talk to and I'd be able to stay up past curfew without getting in trouble for it. And really, when I thought about it, how many times did I have an opportunity like that? Of course, the dance would be supervised. McGonagall would be there, no doubt, watching me over the brim of her nose through those damn all-seeing spectacles of her's.

Jo asked though, asked me to go with her, and I said yes. I agreed, damn it and I wasn't one to back out of something I gave my word on just because I was uncomfortable. So I drew a deep breath and lifted my chin and observed myself through the reflection of the mirror, my fingers playing with the fabric of the purple dress.

I could see Jo peering around the corner of a dressing booth and wrinkling her nose. I sighed through my nose and rolled my eyes to the ceiling and threw my arms out.

"What?" I asked.

Jo jumped a bit but came to stand behind me, staring into the mirror.

"Doesn't look quite like you."

"I doubt any dress will look like me, Jo, I don't wear dresses."

She shrugged.

"Just...don't get me wrong, you can totally pull this off, I just...doesn't seem like we've found the right one yet is all."

I frowned and let out a frustrated groan. Jo gave me this really annoying sympathetic look that she does and patted my shoulder.

"Keep looking. Maybe something yellow?"

"_Yellow_?"

"Yeah, you know, like the sun? _Yellow_."

I turned to face her. Now thinking about it, I never really looked at Jo. At least not in a physically observing way. I was short and dark, nothing really remarkable looking. Jo was the most different looking of the family. She had beautiful blonde hair and I could see her rocking any dress she picked out. She could wear a ballgown and five minutes later be wearing her pajamas and still look good either way. I looked like a kid playing dress-up.

"I don't think yellow is really my color."

"I think it brings out your eyes. It makes the brown look like honey when you wear yellow."

I looked at her for a moment but she was serious. Yellow.

A group of giggling girls went around a corner, blushing as they talked about boys and who was taking who. I watched Ginny and Hermione with some blonde girl who looked a little out of it to me walked a few paces behind them before choosing their own stalls.

"I didn't know Ginny was coming."

"Yeah, I don't know who asked her, but someone did, considering she's too young to go otherwise."

I shrugged and turned back to the rack.

"I swear to Merlin, no Slytherin snake better have the same dress as me." I muttered.

Jo smirked.

"I'm sure Fred wouldn't care either way."

My face heated at the comment and I was so beyond glad my back was to her. Because I hadn't had a conversation with Weasley since the...sneak attack he pulled on me. I wasn't avoiding him. I don't avoid people because I don't hide. I just...never happened to be in the same place as him. Which was understanding because we didn't have classes together. So I definitely wasn't avoiding him. I didn't have any reason to ignore him either...except I wasn't over that damned kissing stunt he pulled.

Honestly, I couldn't understand what Weasley was trying to pull here. The letters all Summer holiday, the flirting, the innuendos. I had no idea what he wanted from me, really. I mean, he said a relationship but..._he acted like we were together already and I was just in fucking denial for Merlin's sake_! Sodding little twat.

I wasn't looking for a relationship. I wasn't interested. I had things to occupy myself with. I had school which had to be a priority if I wanted to reach my goal of being a Hit Wizard. Which came before any boy. He was a grade younger than me! Why couldn't he find some poor naïve girl in his own damned year?

I shook myself. Weasley was definitely not going to start circling my head. And I most certainly didn't give a damn if he liked my dress or not. Which I think should be pretty clear since I turned down all seventy-nine _go-to-the-ball-with-me-my-darling _offers.

"I don't care about what Fred thinks." I snapped.

"Mhm. You know something?" she asked.

I hummed, figuring I'd humor her as I examined a nice golden strapless dress that had some shimmery fabric to it and didn't go all the way past my knees to avoid tripping later.

"You two fight like some old married couple."

I almost ripped the dress right then and there.

-0-

"Ginny, you wanna sit still before I burn Hermione's goddamn hair off?"

Ginny stopped pacing the floor of my room and sat on the floor, dress billowing around her like a mushroom.

"I'm sorry I'm just a little excited about tonight."

I gave her a look Emma would've been proud of.

"Nothing better be happening tonight."

She looked puzzled for a moment before her eyes opened comically wide and she blushed crimson, quickly shaking her head.

"Oh-_oh_, no, no nothing like that, Joss...I've just never been to something like this."

"Join the club, baby ginger."

Hermione winced as I ran my wand over some more curls, straightening the out, but she didn't say anything. I, myself, was really impressed that Hermione had accepted Krum's offer. Personally, along with most of the students who knew them, thought curly-q would be snogging it up by the end of the night with carrot-top but apparently they both found dates that...weren't each other.

"I can't believe you two don't have dates." Hermione commented.

I scoffed.

"I prefer no dates. Because then I'm obligated to spend the whole night with them. Personally, I'm a free spirit, having a good time with as many people as I want."

Hermione blushed right down her neckline, I swear, and Ginny bit her lip, smirking, while Jo choked on a gulp of water she was taking.

"Joss! Highly inappropriate, you slag."

"Shut-up, Saint Josephine. Just because I'm not joining your convent doesn't mean I'm a right whore."

"What makes you think I haven't slept with anyone?" she cried indignantly.

I rolled my eyes.

"Because I never heard of it. I never heard of you getting horizontal with anyone. I never caught a single wind of such a sinful moment from you."

Jo gave me her best glower.

"Maybe I just never told you."

"Maybe it just never happened."

"Maybe you're a slag."

"Maybe you're a prude."

"Maybe my brother will feel better knowing you haven't...done anything with anyone."

I turned my eyes to Ginny, still sitting on the floor, playing with the bottom of her dress, cheeks tinged a slight pink.

Jo blinked owlishly at her and there was a second before I just dropped my wand and bent over, laughing so hard my sides hurt after a minute and tears stained my eyes.

"Shut up, Jocelyn!"

"Maybe...maybe George can enter _your_ convent later, yeah?" I said breathlessly, trying to catch some air in my lungs.

Jo was fuming and Hermione looked a tad at a loss for what to say and I was practically lying on the floor next to a grinning Ginny.

I turned my eyes up to her and nodded, a little red in the face myself, smiling.

"Maybe all Weasley's aren't bad." I admitted.

-0-

I couldn't help but smooth my hands down over my dress as we made our way around the dance floor. I had just finished a rather animated dance session with some Bulgarian boy, my third dance that night, the two before consisted of a very handsy French bloke with stunning green eyes but I couldn't understand a word out of his beautiful mouth.

I found Jo getting a drink at the table and slung an arm over her shoulders. The ball had basically just started but I was already pleasantly surprised by the fact I no longer minded being here.

"Having fun?" she asked, taking a sip.

"More than I thought I would, anyway." I admitted.

She smirked and I knew she was being smug. She had said I'd have fun and I just admitted I wasn't about to drown myself in the lake anytime soon. Little shit that she was.

I felt myself spun around and my arm slipped from Jo's shoulders and when I stopped I was entirely too close to a glowering Fred Weasley. I made a face of my own and whacked his grip off my arm, folding my own across my chest.

"Excuse the _fuck_ out of you, Weasley."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing, Wilde."

I arched a brow and leaned back a little, eyeing him, unamused.

"Didn't know you were into the French." he added.

Realization dawned on me and I let out a loud laugh in his face, Fred looking highly unamused himself now.

"I can dance with whoever I want. Last time I checked, I didn't need anybody's permission, let alone yours."

Fred nodded to himself, about what I'm not sure, and did this weird, semi-amused smirk and glanced at the ceiling. I furrowed my brows and watched him. I can't deny it was a weird experience, having Fred give me attitude, but whatever.

"You're trying to make me jealous." he decided, rather firmly.

Jo snorted into her cup and started coughing and I was a little caught off guard myself.

"Come again?"

"I get it now. It's alright, I like a challenge. Play hard to get all you want, darling, I guarantee it'll be me you'll be saving the last dance for."

With that he gave me a nod and lost himself in the crowd on the dance floor. I turned and looked searchingly at Jo. Fred Weasley was a strange one, that was for sure. I could decide if I liked that or not.

"Well, you two have fun with that dance then," she said dismissively and trying to walk away.

"Hold on! Where are you even going?"

"Away from you and your maddening boyfriend."

"He's not-we're not-_my boyfriend_!"

Jo nodded sagely at me.

"Yeah, exactly. Have fun tonight." she said before slipping away.

I threw my hands in the air and felt a headache coming on. I wished someone had spiked the drinks now. I paused at that and smiled, turning towards the bowl and casting a surveying look over my shoulder. Tonight was not the night to get a detention.

-0-

I wasn't drunk. No, I may have spiked the drink a little but I wasn't. And unless someone had thirteen or so cups of it, no one else was either, not by my hand. Which was good, because if it wasn't that way, McGonagall would've killed me.

I was leaning against a wall towards the back of the room, the band was so loud it was vibrating the floor under me. That handsy frenchman was beside me, chatting in broken English and I just nodded in the right places. He seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact I only tolerated him because his accent was hot and his eyes were beautiful.

"I've decided we should have more than one dance tonight, darling."

I watched Fred over the top of my drink as he came to stand casually in front of me. He really did look suave tonight, I'll give him that.

"Pardon, we talk alone, yes?" frenchie said a little irritated.

"No thanks, you're not really my type, mate." Fred said.

"No no, me and this girl."

"Are you trying to hint at something, I'm not following."

I rolled me eyes and decided to wait it out.

"I ask you to leave."

"Well that's very nice of you to ask, but I'm not too keen on it right now, thanks."

"Leave."

"Ooh, feisty."

" Here, you fire head, I ask you to leave-"

"Did you really just call me a _fire head?_"

I sighed. My cup was empty so I snatched Fred's drink out of his hand.

"Boys, do you want me to step out for a moment and let you have a moment alone?"

"Only if I get to go with you."

"No reason to leave, mademoiselle."

"Really, because french fry here is about a second away from calling you fire crotch and that's a conversation I don't really want to get into."

Fred snorted and slung an arm carelessly over my shoulder, sliding up beside me and tucked me into his side.

"The only one who gets to decide if I'm a fire crotch is you, darling."

"Well then I guess we'll never know the answer."

"Don't pretend you aren't curious."

I lifted my head to look at him.

"Not even in the slightest."

"Really? Because I kissed you, rather thoroughly for a first kiss, and you haven't killed me for it, so I'm thinking that's the biggest go ahead I can expect from you."

"You've clearly spent a lot of time analyzing that kiss, if you can even call it that."

"Don't pretend you haven't thought about it. And what would you call it then?"

I smirked, sipping from his cup.

"I've been thinking of it. Thinking...I've had better."

Fred raised an eyebrow at that and looked down at me.

"Is that so?"

"It's a fact."

He was in my face then, leaning over, towering over me.

"Would I be wrong to assume that's a challenge, Miss Wilde?"

I glanced out of the corner of my eye and saw my french beau was gone.

"Since you scared my lay away for the night...you can take it however you want it."

I wasn't all that surprised when we left the ball room an hour later.


	20. She Killed It With Kisses: Jo

She killed it with kisses: Jo

_Love is a Battlefield _Chapter 20

The ball was in full swing and I was immensely enjoying it. Alicia, Katie, Angelina, and the Hufflepuff Leanne, the newest addition to this group, were all swinging it and pretending to not despise Cho Chang for being with Cedric Diggory. Alicia and Katie had found dates, some Ravenclaw blokes who I didn't know very well, and Angelina and I were dancing solo (and laughingly with each other on the slow songs, just so we didn't have to awkwardly leave the dance floor). Joss was nowhere to be seen, though I imagine that Frenchman was probably continuing his quest to get his hands under her dress. The night was young and still full of possibilities, after all. We had to make the most of them.

But I didn't want to think about older-sister-slag-Joss. My senses seemed to be hyperaware, an itchy, intoxicating form of magic and drank in the sensations around and frazzled in the air, egging everyone on before breaking them apart. The music was beating above and below and around us, the crystal decorations and enchanted lights pulsating in tune. My skin seemed to be tingling with the sensation, my eardrums vibrating with small fairy hum and the huge waves of bass. My dress was more of a quixotic azure shimmer than before, the reds on the militaristic Bulgarian uniforms a deeper crimson, the Beauxbaton suits a more longing forget-me-not blue. The mass of bodies were an exploration in scent, the delectable smells of perfumes and cologne colliding, of jasmine and ginger and fresh earth and clean wood and sea-wind. It was beautiful, dazzling, and I definitely did not want it to stop.

But the changing positions of the people around me marked time passing. Hannah and Ernie were on their fifth round of publicly snogging, Ginny and Neville had changed ballroom dance styles, Hermione was now frowning next to Krum, her forehead worried and eyes distracted, Cedric and Cho were getting closer to bedroom looks, a bloke from Bulgaria was eyeing me like I was chocolate dessert, Luna was breaking from dancing to chat with the fairies, and Filch had progressed from glaring at students to looking like he was ready to go cuddle Mrs. Norris goodnight. Couples kept breaking off and leaving to find the closeness and privacy of an empty classroom, cupboard, or pillar. The band members looked as if their instruments were getting heavier with each song, their movements slowing down. No, no don't go. I don't want to go back to my Transfiguration coursework.

There was another disturbance as another slow song came on and another man from the land of good wine and excellent cheese (maybe I should get some for Val) snatched up the sashaying Angelina. I probably needed a break and I started to weave my way through the couples who were definitely not leaving room for Archimedes. Stuffy old owl that he is. Probably never been to a Yule Ball anyway.

Before I could get out however, the Bulgarian descended into a bow that nearly had his forehead kissing the floor. "Madam, may I have the honor of this dance?"

I blinked at him. Really? Hadn't my dancing with Angelina indicated that I was either not looking or a lesbian? Maybe they grew them thick there. But then Joss's mockery of me being a prude flashed like a spell in my mind, along with several compromising positions this man probably wanted me in sooner rather than later, and-

"Actually, my sister saved this dance for me."

Today was the day for blinking apparently. I blinked once more and swiveled my head to the side to see a Weasley Twin right over my shoulder. He lifted his hands and gently placed them on my shoulders, giving a light push back towards the crowd. "Sorry, mate, but she's been avoiding me all night and I'm afraid I have to go to bed after this. Got an essay due."

The bloke's eyebrow twitched and his lips, which definitely would have liked to be kissing me, goddamnit, downturned. "She's your sister?"

"That's what I said." What the bloody hell was he playing at? What if I _wanted_ to...but then I had come alone and I meant to go home alone. I wanted sex to mean something besides carnal pleasure and an empty bed in the morning. Besides, what _was_ this Weasley playing at? Could be interesting to find out. And like he would miss anything to write a bloody essay.

"Oh, yes, I did, didn't I?" I played along. I turned to the other boy, trying to look apologetic. "So sorry, sir."

Okay, maybe that was laying it on a bit thick, but it got the job done. He glared daggers at the Weasley and sulked off. Sorry, mate. Maybe Fleur had a sister that would kiss him.

The Weasley slid out from behind me and took my hand, leading me back to the thrumming magic of swaying crowd. Another slow song came on, maybe the band feeling that this crowd liked sticking themselves together. My thoughts seemed to be slowing down, defenses that had been raised at being asked going down again. Whichever Weasley Twin this was, he was a friend.

He gently pulled me to him, taking one hand in his own and another around my waist like we were in a real ballroom and not the Great Hall. I was tired and a Gryffindor so I laid my head on his shoulder, letting him guide me around. He was warm and his long hair tickled a bit against my nose.

"So where's your other half?" I asked, wanting to start conversation and figure out what that stunt he pulled was all about with the least amount of effort on my part. Also I needed to find out which Twin this was because if this was Fred things were getting interesting a lot faster than I was ready for. Joss may not have admitted it yet, but she wouldn't take kindly to her sister snuggling up with her man. They were _so_ married.

"I could ask you the same question," he chuckled. "Have you cast a tracking spell on Joss yet? I feel like it would greatly ease your family's peace of mind. You'd get to see if she's out killing somebody who insulted her shoes."

"I'd be the one helping bury the body, you know. And she wants to be a Hit Wizard. It'd be her job."

"Really? I always pictured her as one of those quaint little singing shop girls."

This wasn't getting me far and I still didn't know if this was Fred. I tried for a more direct approach. "So what's with the sibling act? What if I wanted to go with him?"

The twin stiffened a little, the muscles under my cheek tightening, but he continued to dance. Almost robotically, he answered, "I was under the impression you didn't want to dance with anybody tonight. Or, at least you hadn't made any effort to."

Aw, fuck this must be George, if the twin had been watching me. Ginny's comment from earlier swam into my mind, and I was glad he couldn't really see my face because I was sure it was turning colors. I wasn't sure I wanted to believe any boy fancied me at the moment. I mean, it was fun to flirt with them like I had with Eliot, but I wasn't looking for a boyfriend. I've never gotten particularly attached to somebody outside my family. It led to...scary things. Like dependence. Dependence on someone who wasn't necessarily going to be there all the time.

But George was so warm. And relaxing. And safe. And hilarious. And he smelled nice, a mix of male musk with a spice of charms spell-work and...cashews. I remembered when I was a bird and wondering what he smelled like. He was also currently waiting for an answer. "Mmm, I like you better than him, anyway."

His body immediately relaxed. And was it my imagination or did his grip on me grow firmer, a bit more confident? I moved my arms to be around his neck. His hand joined the other around my waist, respectfully not wandering downwards.

"You do realize you could probably have anyone on this dance floor within seconds, right?"

"And yet here I am with you."

"I have a weakness for blondes."

"And former canaries?"

George laughed and I could hear the vibrations in his chest. "Apparently. You did make a good canary though."

I pretended to pout. "Yeah, but I never got to even properly fly. That was a bollocks piece of magic, George Weasley. I want another go."

"Well, I'm sorry but we've already modified them and I have a vested interest in keeping my testicles."

I snorted. "Oh really? That scared of Joss are you?"

"Anyone who is not that scared of Joss deserves to lose his testicles."

I laughed full out that time. Though really: "There's more sides to her than just aggression. She's still a girl, er, woman. Uh. My sister." I stuck out my tongue. "I do hope Fred knows what he's getting into."

"I think he does. Or at least he thinks he thinks he does, which is vastly important."

"You never did answer my question of where that brother of yours was. Use your twin psychic ability and divine what his latest courting plan is."

"Well, right now we're past courting."

My head shot up, almost banging into his chin. We stopped dancing. "_What._"

"My twin abilities just saw the pair of them leave together. I expect another redhead in the family."

I swore in the most un-lady-like fashion. Damn that girl. Of course this was happening. Merlin save me. George arched an eyebrow at me. "You do realize that we're males, right? And that in both our right breast pockets are 6 packets of rubbers."

I groaned and just put my head back on his shoulder, the left one, so he didn't have to see my stupid blushing face. "Of course, you do."

"It's always good to be prepared. I doubt you've room for rubbers in that dress of yours."

"But I _do_ have room for my wand and I can think of all sorts of places to stick it should the need arise."

"Care to give me a demonstration?"

I glared into his shoulder, face turning even redder. "Just shut up and dance with me."

We'd actually danced through quite a lot of songs, not changing our slow swaying to match any tempo. The night was obviously ending, barely anyone left on the floor and teachers giving everybody significant looks to get out the hell out of here because they were knackered. A few songs later and I was also basically sleeping against George. Friend. My friend. George was a good friend.

"Jo, I don't mean to alarm you, but McGonagall is looking at us like she's swallowed a lemon."

"Turn her into a cat," I said blearily, raising my tired head to find the offending teacher. "I'll take the detention."

George chuckled and extracted himself from me, ignoring my protesting whine. He was so _warm _and why was he _leaving_. Ugh. The warmth returned in the form of his hand and he led me from the Great Hall and towards Gryffindor Tower. Thoughts of rubbers fogged in my head and I tried to shake them away. No. George was only a friend, wasn't he? Ginny was wrong. They were all wrong.

He murmured the password to the Fat Lady and led through the Common Room and up the staircase to the landing where it split off. The Common Room had some people flopped in it, totally exhausted and some snogging happening in the darker corners. But the landing was isolated, a place for decisions, for the evening to be decided. And ended.

George squeezed my hand. I took a breath.

Before I could think, he leaned towards me and pressed his lips to my cheek, softly, like a gentle fairy kiss. "Good night, my bird," he whispered.

Before I could react, he was gone. I felt cold. The terrible thought occurred that I wouldn't remember him tomorrow, that in between Care of Magical Creatures and Charms coursework I would forget who he was and he would fade into that indistinguishable twin-hood of his and I would be unable to find him ever again.

I felt cold walking up the girl's staircase and entering the sixth year room. I felt cold noting the empty beds, taking off my dress, putting on pajamas, washing my face, and brushing my teeth. I felt cold wrapped in my Gryffindor sheets until I squeezed my eyes shut and replayed George's kiss over and over and over.


	21. Slow: Val

**A/N: Val's POV**

For our first date (it felt fabulous to call it that), Charlie insisted that we have dinner at his place rather than go out to the same tavern we were always at. I didn't know what to expect, what his first dates were usually like, and since I'd not had a great variety of marvelous first dates I wouldn't have known much what to expect anyway. I sort of felt as though I was walking through a dream, pulling on the semi-casual black dress Tonks had sent me for Christmas when I told her of the date with Charlie. It wasn't my Christmas present, she assured me (that had been a new set of inks and a new pair of boots), but instead called it my 'get laid' gift.

She thought she was so funny.

I dabbed on a bit of makeup, decided against lipstick, which had a way of ruining dates in my experience, and quickly flipped my hair into shape, wishing there was something I could do to make myself look more interesting.

But Charlie liked me, I reminded myself, smiling in the mirror. I didn't have to be something I wasn't to impress him, because he already wanted to be with me. The boy must be crazy.

But I didn't want to worry about it, because I was about to go on my first date with the guy I'd been absolutely obsessed with since before I could even remember.

A knock on the door to my flat and my breath caught. He was right on time. I had a sneaking suspicion that he'd been standing out there, waiting for his watch to hit the exact time we'd agreed upon before knocking. I would have done the same thing...

I couldn't even wipe the grin off my face as I opened the door to find him grinning on the other side. His grin was a bit more temporary, though, as his jaw dropped and he said, "Wow."

I took it as a good sign.

When he held my hand and led me eagerly off toward his own flat, which wasn't too far away on foot, I felt like I was still walking through a dream, his hand in mine, walking side by side to our first date. I wondered if this was the first dates of all happily married couples felt. I certainly hoped so.

But then I felt stupid, thinking about marriage when we really hadn't even started the date yet, so I tried to focus on the present, which only brought to my attention the way he continued to hold my hand as he unlocked his flat and led me in, the way he blushed as he apologized for the non-existent mess that I supposed he'd spent most of the day cleaning up, and the way he watched me take in the flat.

"It's perfect," I said, honestly.

It was a bachelor pad, that was certain, and yet it wasn't completely uninhabitable for women. In fact, it was rather cozy, or at least had the capability to be so, with the proper cleaning.

"I guess it's all right," Charlie said modestly. "C'mon, I've set out dinner."

Surprisingly, Charlie Weasley was capable of cooking. It wasn't anything special, but it was better than the almost-food the tavern served, and certainly far better than what I expected from a man who had the type of mother that certainly cooked for him every day of his life and would have been insulted had he tried to make his food himself. I sort of wished I'd had that type of mother, but my own cooking would have been disastrous had that been the case, so perhaps my own mother was a blessing in disguise. Sort of.

"This is really great, Charlie," I said, not really knowing what else to say, anyway. We'd already talked about school, work, politics, the Triwizard Tournament, family (he thought I was making my mother up at first, which was so cute of him, thinking I had to have been raised by someone normal), goals.

"Thanks," he said, grinning again, and turning very, very pink. "I, uh, I've been practicing."

"Living on your own?" I said, nodding.

"Ah, actually, knowing I had this date," he said shakily.

I didn't even know what to say to the knowledge that he'd learned how to cook for me. We'd made an agreement not to exchange Christmas presents, since we had the date just after Christmas, so we talked briefly about our uneventful Christmases. Finally Charlie sighed and said, "So, Valley, what brought you to Eastern Europe?"

I could feel my hands shaking in my lap and my mouth went dry. Why did he have to ask that? The date was going so well! What was I going to say? Could I lie to him? Was that even remotely okay when things had been going so well?

"Well, I write for the Daily Prophet as their Eastern European correspondent," I reminded him, telling half the truth. "Take a guess."

He laughed.

"I guess what I mean is, how did you get into that? I mean, did you have an interest in the area, or did they need someone and you wanted the job, or did you sort of get stuck with it because you were young and you're itching to get out of here and on to bigger and better things?"

And the question of whether or not to lie to him came back to the forefront of my mind.

But I just couldn't do it.

"I have to be perfectly honest with you," I sighed. "I got the job after I was already in Romania." He raised his eyebrows questioningly, but didn't interrupt. "I, um, I knew you'd gotten the job at the colony so Joss literally helped me pack my bags the day I got home after graduation and I just sort of took off, came here, got a job after. Emma helped me get on my feet monetarily and I paid her back when I had the money."

He blinked.

"So you followed me to Romania?" he clarified.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"You just picked up everything and followed me across the continent?"

"Yup, that's really what it boils down to."

"Why?"

"Because I... Well, because frankly I was sort of... Because you were the only thing in my life that wasn't because of somebody else."

He blinked. Now I'd really gone and confused him.

"I'm not quite sure I understand," he said, but the positive sign was that he wasn't freaking out and kicking me out of his flat. I clung to that as I tried to explain. "See, I've spent most of my life doing things because of my mother, or because of my father's memory, or because of Emma, or because of Tonks, or because Joss or Jo or both needed something. There was very little I did for myself. But my crush on you, that was mine. I became Quidditch commentator because _I_ liked you. I did Care of Magical Creatures because _I_ liked you. I moved to Romania because _I_ liked you. It didn't have anything to do with anyone else, and it felt good."

"So when you seemed to not really remember me in the tavern...?"

"I was trying not to be creepy."

"Right," he said, his grin surprisingly returning. "I just can't believe how much time I wasted."

"What do you mean?" I gaped, wondering what on earth he could be talking about and why on earth he wasn't completely horrified that I'd pretty much been stalking him.

"I mean," he sighed, "that if I had ever gotten up the nerve to talk to you in school instead of just wondering about you and listen to your voice all the time, we probably would have had our first date years ago, on a Hogsmeade trip, like it should have been, and we would probably be sitting in a house somewhere, having a date night while our kids pretend to be asleep in a room down the hall."

I just blinked at him for a moment. Everything he'd just said sounded like something from one of my dreams, but there was absolutely no way I'd actually heard him say any of it. It was too... too... perfect.

"I think," he sighed, still smiling, "that we should still take things slow, though. I mean, I don't really want to, but I know it's what we should do, so I'm going to be the biggest person I can right now and say we should."

"I'm not sure I follow," I said dryly.

"Valley," Charlie sighed, "I'm crazy about you. I've been crazy about you for a long time. The fact that you're crazy about me just makes me twice as sure that there's something real here. If I were being perfectly honest with myself, I want to drag you off to my bed and prove to you just how crazy you drive me, but I think that for the sake of something long-term, like you said in England, we ought to take things slow, painful as that is proving already to be for me."

I shuddered slightly at the thought of him proving how he felt, and he noticed, flushing a bit at my reaction. I started to feel the heat creeping into my own cheeks and I said, "What does slow mean to you?"

"Good question," he said with a smile. "How about I get some ice cream out of the freezer and we can discuss the definition on the couch?"

I nodded, moving out to the couch, sitting and waiting for him, biting my lip and wringing my hands. What if 'slow' was some kind of code for 'you're making me uncomfortable but I don't want to tell you so, so I'm going to say I'll write and then never will'? What if...? What if...?

I was running out of 'what if's', but that was fine because Charlie had returned with two bowls full of vanilla ice cream.

"So," he sighed, handing me a bowl and sitting down beside me, rather closer to me than I'd expected, "'slow'. It's a good word, but you're right, rather vague. I want to take you out again, somewhere out of here, some actual date. Then if things keep on as they are, I want you to be my girl. After that, things can go at the pace they will, but I want you to be in charge of pace, Valley."

"Why me?" I breathed, eating ice cream to keep myself from dwelling on how close his body was to mine. Surely it was a bad idea to put me in charge of pace. All I wanted to do was jump him there and then.

"Because," he said softly, running his fingers through a strand of hair near my face, "I'm less confident in my ability to read your readiness than I am in your ability to tell me no. Since you've already slowed me down, I think the pace ought to be in your hands."

He leaned closer, putting the empty ice cream bowls on the floor and burying his face in my hair, breathing in and out.

"Vanilla," he sighed. "You smell like vanilla. It's delicious."

"It's my conditioner," I managed to say in a soft, shaky voice.

"It's delicious," he repeated, pressing his lips to my jaw.

"Charlie," I moaned, allowing his lips to graze against my skin. Allowing... As though I could have had the strength to stop him if I'd wanted to. As if I'd wanted to! There was nothing more enticing than the feel of his lips on my skin. I barely noticed my fingers grasping at his red hair, barely noticed the sighs coming from my own lips as he slowly back me up, gently pressing me downward, and letting gravity help him lie me back onto the couch, week as a kitten and at his mercy.

What a beautiful place to be.

"So beautiful," Charlie sighed, kissing down my neck to my collarbone. I shivered.

How could he possibly think that? How could he possibly find me beautiful? I could almost understand his liking my voice, even the fact that he liked the way my hair smelled, but the only person who'd ever called me beautiful was my father, and that had been many, many years prior.

I hadn't realized I was crying until Charlie began gently wiping the tears off my cheeks with his rough thumbs.

"Valley, what's wrong? Shh, it's all right. Tell me what's wrong."

I shook my head, trying to stop my tears. I felt stupid, felt foolish.

"It's nothing," I admitted, not meeting Charlie's eyes. "I just... I just missed my dad."

"What?" Charlie said softly, frowning. "What brought that up?"

"Um, well," I muttered, wiping a few new tears away and turning my whole face away from him. "It's nothing really, just something stupid."

"No, Valley, I want to know."

I sighed. He did seem sincere and I was probably worrying him over nothing. I whispered, "He was the last person to say that to me."

"Say what?"

"That I'm... that I was... beautiful," I breathed, barely making a sound.

"_What?_" Charlie gasped, sitting up, frowning deeply at me. "Valley, what do you mean nobody's said you're beautiful since your dad died? That's been... That's been over ten years!"

"Well, my mum said things like it, when she was drunk," I muttered, sitting up and looking down at my own knees. "I never really figured that counted. Sure, people would say things when I got dressed up or something, especially Tonks, but never quite those words. I'm the plain one, Charlie. Emma, Joss, Jo, they're all beautiful. I'm just... I'm just Valerie. Just Valerie."

"You're not just Valerie," Charlie said firmly, wrapping his arms around me. "I don't know where you get the idea that you're plain, but I think you're absolutely gorgeous. Trust me, I've seen your sisters. I'd take you any day."

"Well, I would hope so," I snorted. "I mean, Jo and Joss are a bit young for you."

"True," he laughed. "But I wouldn't want Jo anyway. I like darker hair better. And I think Joss is a little pale for my tastes. She couldn't wear black as well as you. And I've met Emma, she's always so tired. I wouldn't even look at any of them. I want you. Trust me, Valley, you're absolutely beautiful."

It was weird, having it wash over me, to think about the fact that he thought I was prettier than my sisters. Suddenly all of the time I'd spent feeling insignificant, feeling lesser, felt like wasted time. I just hadn't been looking at it in the right way.

"Now," Charlie whispered, smiling at me, "since we've clarified that detail, where were we?"

I just blinked, watching as his lips came toward mine. I kissed him back eagerly, passionately, so excited that it seemed as though all my dreams were finally coming true. Charlie moaned into my mouth, running one hand through my hair and pulling me closer to him with the other. The vibration of his moan drove me crazy and I began grasping his hair again, pulling his face as close to mine as possible. I sighed into his mouth. It wasn't long before Charlie had me lying on the couch again, his body hovering over me.

Charlie's hands began caressing me through the fabric of the dress, even with the barrier causing me to shiver and ache for more.

But even with my mind fogging fast with desire, I was fairly certain that what we were doing wasn't at all even our own definition of 'slow'. For a while I let him continue his mind-blowing assault of my mouth, let his hands work their way up my legs, gently caressing my thighs, rolling up the hem of my dress to have access to more of my skin.

"Charlie," I sighed, pulling my lips off from his. He seemed to take that as encouragement, and his hands moved higher as his lips worked downward. "Charlie, this isn't moving slow."

He whimpered, obviously frustrated. But after a moment of what I figured was probably working up his resolve, Charlie sat himself upright again, pulling me up with him.

"Sorry," he sighed. "Like I said, I trust you more than me. I... Mmm... Sorry, um, do you want me to walk you back now?"

"I think that's not such a bad idea," I said breathlessly, straightening out my hair and smiling at him. Charlie tossed the bowls in the sink, rushed back out to the front door, and took my hand in his.

"All right, love," he sighed. "Let's go."

He walked me back to my flat, all the while holding tightly onto my hand, making me feel like I was floating on clouds instead of walking down a dirt road in the middle of nowhere in Romania.

When we reached my flat I let him in briefly to say good night. But I didn't want to say good night. I wanted to pull him by the collar of his jacket all the way to my bed and have my way with him.

"I guess this is good night," I said softly, smiling up at him.

"Yeah," Charlie muttered. "I guess it is. We need to do this again."

"We need to do this a lot," I teased, putting my hand gently on his chest. I was happy when he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss.

When he finally pulled away, he sighed and said, "Well, sounds good. Um, I'm going to go, but I want to take you out somewhere. How about, until we get into the swing of things, I take you out every week."

"I'd like that," I managed to whisper before pressing my lips to his again.

"Okay," he sighed five minutes later. "Now I've really got to go before I take this whole 'slow' thing and throw it out the window. I'll write you, beautiful."

I blushed, letting him kiss me gently on the cheek and walk right out the door.

Slow was not my favorite word.


	22. Surprise!: Emma

Dear Val,

You won't be able to imagine what's happened this Christmas. I think I'm dating Bill Weasley.

I know you're probably confused as hell. Right now I'm pretty confused too. I don't really know exactly how it happened. It just sort of happened. I mean, we went out on that date that was supposed to make up for him standing me up that one Valentine's Day. It was… Weird. Well, not weird. It was just not a typical first date. I guess in a way it was better but bloodier.

Do you remember Levi Lowery? The Healer from Artifact Accidents? He's that bloke I went on that horrible date with. You must remember the story about him wanting to show me his spider collection because I'm sure it weirded you out as much as it did me. Anyways, he showed up while Bill and I were at the Leaky Cauldron. That would have been awkward enough but he had a mate with him. Anthon Mapp. Stupid drunk git. He had a loud mouth and apparently a hatred for women. Long story short, he pissed off Bill and they decided to exchange a few punches on the pub floor. All of a sudden I had to get Bill out of there as I fast as I could before the barman, Tom, started getting the Ministry involved. Let's just say, the night definitely didn't start the way I'd expected.

So I had practically drag this hardheaded ginger back to my flat so that I didn't have to send him back to Molly while looking like he'd just been part of some sort of Muggle bar brawl. Can you imagine Molly's expression if he came back to her house all bruised? Oh dear Merlin, she probably would have had an aneurism. Anyways, so I had to Heal him. What I _didn't _have to do was practically tell him our life story. It was almost like word vomit. I just couldn't seem to stop talking. I don't know why I felt the need to tell him about Baldie or Mum's fascination with alcohol or especially the time that I had to steal money from Mum's purse and make an early morning trip to the grocery because we were literally going to start starving. Those aren't things that I generally tell people, especially people who I haven't really seen in years. So I was Healing him and rambling and all of a sudden _BAM!_ I'm being hugged. Not that it wasn't appreciated, I guess, but I was just a little blindsided.

That wasn't even the most confusing part of the night. Sometime later that night he compared me to his mum before kissing me for the first time. I'm really not sure how to feel about that. I mean, I didn't exactly mind the kissing but the timing made me scratch my head a bit. Then he took advantage of my confusion and asked me on another date for Boxing Day before hightailing it out of my flat like it was on fire. Hopefully your Weasley is less confusing. Well I suppose Charlie's not quite "yours" yet but by the sounds of it I wouldn't be surprised if the announcement of your engagement comes by post any day now.

Boxing Day was slightly less confusing than the first date. Boxing Day was kind of an "I like snogging you and you like snogging me so let's try to suck each other's faces off" kind of a day. I have to shamefully admit that those kinds of days are now some of my favorites. I mean, it wasn't like we spent an entire day snogging. It was more like half a day and the other half was spent talking. Well no. It was like 75% snogging and 25% talking. I couldn't help it! The bloke snogs like it's some sort of Olympic sport! Granted if it was an Olympic sport then he'd be a gold medalist but still.

As good as the snogging was the talking was better. I guess I'd always made the unfair assumption that he was just some adrenaline junkie because he decided to run off to Egypt to play in his pyramids. I mean, maybe he's a _bit _of an adrenaline junkie but he actually really loves his work and it's more challenging than I gave him credit for. It's not his fault that the job he loves takes him all the way to Africa.

Gah! Why does Africa have to be so far? It's not like I can just pop in for a visit whenever I get the urge and I really don't have the time with work and Mum to take a trip that's worth all the paperwork it'd take for me to get there. The preparations for the Triwizard Tournament have been a bit draining. They won't tell me explicitly what the Third Task is going to be but from what they tell me, it's going to be the most dangerous. More dangerous than dragons? Brilliant. Can I just take this opportunity to say how glad I am that Joss didn't get picked as a Champion?

Anyways, I just wish Bill was closer. I mean, it's hard to start a relationship with someone in a different continent. I write to him practically every day but it's not the same. Snogging a letter is much more depressing than snogging a person.

So talking about snogging, how is your favorite ginger? I saw your article in the Prophet about the dragon colony. Very interesting stuff. I love the fact that you actually managed to talk about Charlie once without sounding like you're completely in love with him. That's probably got to be a first, huh?

Talking about firsts, Levi wrote me on Boxing Day to apologize for his mate's behavior at the pub. Apparently a girl that Anthony had been chasing for almost forever told him that she just wanted to be friends and he was yelling at me but he was really talking about her. Anyways Levi _might _have added an invitation to go to a New Year's Eve party with him at the end of his letter. Bill turned so many colors when he read the letter that I thought his head might explode. You should have heard the way that he was going on and on about how dare Levi ask me out after he just stood there while his mate insulted me. How jealous is someone even allowed to get on the second date? I'm pretty sure that Bill surpassed that limit.

Anyways, I think Bill and I might be dating. I think. I'm not really sure. We were too busy trying to spend as much time snogging as we could before he had to leave for Egypt to iron out any details like that. I don't know how this happened. It's not logical and it doesn't make any sense but I really don't give a rat's arse about that surprisingly. I'm blaming temporary insanity.

I suppose I should go so that you can get back to daydreaming and drooling over Charlie. Tell him hi for me, okay? And be careful with him, alright? You've fancied the bloke for ages and just remember that not all people fall as hard and fast as you do. I think our family just has a tiny little tendency to become a bit obsessive. Just watch out for yourself. Sometimes reality isn't as forgiving as fantasy.

Oh and one last thing. I've heard that you came to England without coming to see me. Thanks for that by the way. It's not like I wanted to see my sister who lives aboard or anything. You saw Joss and Jo but couldn't manage to swing by the hospital to see me? I see how I rank, git. I'll keep that in mind when your next birthday comes.

Love,

Emma


	23. Define Relationship: Joss

I could say it was a strange feeling, waking up like this now. Admittedly, it was still actually a little strange. Or maybe a lot strange. Definitely strange.

The sheets were the same as mine, the covers just as comfortable and the mattress wasn't too shabby. But it smelled like cologne. Like teenage boy. Like Fred Weasley. And that kind of weirded me out a bit. I was used to only smelling Fred when he was breaking into my personal space and then I'd either calmly walk away or give him some sort of parting gift, like a new bruise or a shaved head or something. But falling asleep to this smell and then waking up to it was a little dizzying.

It's not like this was my first time waking up in some guy's bed. I'd had boyfriends. I'd had non-boyfriends. I'd also had that one girl from Hufflepuff back in sixth year but that was perfume I woke up to, not cologne and a slightly different scenario if I'm honest. Fred was a whole other level of strange.

After the ball I'd experienced this for the first time. I had really found it strange then. The really weird thing? I hadn't been taken the piss. I had been sober the whole time and then…I willingly left the ball to come up to his room. A kid a year younger than me, an annoying boy who'd been trying to get up my skirt for months and I had been dutifully ignoring ever since. And I'd willingly slept with him. More than once. Perhaps I've come down with some contractible mental disorder. Looking at my mother I wouldn't be completely disbelieving of it.

I know most girls, or rather most people, would be a little guilty at waking up early and slipping out of the room while their…_partner?_- was sleeping. But I think if I was going to continue to find myself in this situation, we had a nice routine worked out. We had great sex, I left in the morning, we continued our regular relationship outside of the bedroom, and then repeat. I was okay with this. And Fred hadn't brought it up yet, so I'd see how far I could go with it.

-0-

"Have you figured out what you're going to do once you leave school?" Jo asked around a mouthful of eggs.

I shrugged.

"Get some place to live, obviously."

"I mean, like have you started looking at places or anything?"

"Why would I start now? We're not at the end of school yet."

"You're not seriously going to wait until the last minute and end up finding some completely crappy place, are you?"

"I'm a professional procrastinator."

"That'll get you far in life."

"I honestly don't care all that much about it. I'll hardly be home really, what with training and then eventually assignments."

"And sleeping at Fred's."

I peered up at her, my toast sticking out of my mouth.

"Eschuse choo."

Jo squinted at me.

"Try that again, without launching an air raid of crumbs."

"I said 'excuse you'. What makes you think I'll be sleeping at Fred's, of all places?"

"Well considering that's where you've been sleeping lately, I'm assuming."

"Well, you're assuming wrong."

"Am I really? Because you know…George saw you leaving the ball with him."

"George Weasley? Something I should know about?"

Jo's cheeks flushed and I grinned in satisfaction.

"Don't change the subject. We're talking about you and Fred; I won't let you wiggle out of it."

I sighed, rolling my eyes to the ceiling. Jo was going to gnaw on this bone until there was nothing but dust left.

"We're not…dating or anything." I muttered.

She stared at me, unimpressed.

"But you…you two…"

"_Had sex._ Yes. A few times. Shouldn't you and your '_assumptions'_ know that?" I snipped.

Jo groaned and rubbed her temples.

"You're going to make this complicated, aren't you?"

I scoffed.

"How will I make this complicated?"

She looked at me with narrowed eyes and I arched a brow in question. Was there really a need to dig into my personal life like this? Like we weren't tangled up in the rest of each other's personal lives enough as it were.

"You do realize he'll think you're dating now, right?"

I gave her a dry look.

"The boy's thought we were dating since summer holiday."

"And now you've given him the go ahead, Joss, honestly. You slept with him, for Merlin's sake. He's going to assume you think you're dating him, too. _Mutually dating_."

I pinched my lips. She could be right. But, we weren't. Mutually dating, that is. I didn't think. I mean…we never, like, discussed it or anything. There had never been a _hey-Fred-I-think-I'd-like-to-date-you-not-just-fuck-you-and-leave-you_ conversation. At least not one I ever recalled being a part of. Fred may have conjured up one in his imagination; he'd been doing it since summer holiday anyway.

The question was did I want to date Fred? Did I even fancy him? Sure, his eyes were the bluest things I'd ever seen in my whole entire life and I remembered that one dance at the ball where I was so close I counted every single freckle on his beaming face -_29_- and his smile was practically contagious and a little lopsided and he looked like a cat who ate the canary when he smirked at me –_not to mention he could actually transfigure people into canaries which when it's not done on my baby sister is rather impressive_- and he had a vivid imagination that sometimes I poked fun at when it was being used to create false affections between us but really was extremely creative and usually very entertaining and I had to be like two heads shorter than him but our hands kind of fit together sort of perfectly, like our fingers slotted together so well…but did that mean I wanted to actually date him? Would we even work as a couple? We spent most of our time harassing each other.

"Well, hello there, ladies. How are we on this fine morning?" George asked, sitting down at the table.

I swear Jo turned ten different shades of red for reasons she'd probably never tell me.

I watched Fred sit down, entirely too close to me, and he swiped my toast.

"Oi!" I protested, whacking him across the back of the head.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"For being a toast bandit. Don't steal my food."

"Well you don't offer me any, so the only way I get fed is from lifting your food, darling."

"Get your own."

"But yours is buttered in just the right way-"

"I'll shove that butter someplace else you don't remove your hand from my plate."

"Kinky, but let's not talk about this in front of the kids, dear."

"Yes, don't." George chimed.

"I'd really rather not hear it." Jo agreed.

"You're all irritating." I muttered.

Fred's hand swiped at my juice and I yelped, thrusting my hand out under the glass and shoving it up, making the juice fly all over him. Fred gave a kind of odd sound, a little high up in the sound spectrum, and tumbled off the bench.

It took three seconds of disbelief but then I was shoving a hand towards my mouth, laughing so hard I was shaking and George let out a bellow and Jo snorted into her own glass and then I was on the floor, beside a still shocked Fred, and laughing a laugh that made my face red and my eyes water and my breathing stutter.

When I finally got my breath back, I was hiccupping. I hiccupped so hard I would inch up on the floor and my eyes were still crying and my stomach hurt, but in a good way, and I could feel my heart beat in my ears my face was so red. I turned my head to look at Fred and sputtered a short laugh; he was covered in pumpkin juice.

Fred was leaning on his left forearm, leaning over me, in the middle of the dining hall, an odd look on his face.

"What?" I asked, followed by a loud hiccup.

He shrugged a little and his lips twitched.

"I don't think I've ever seen you laugh so hard before."

I smiled, a little dizzy and hiccupped again.

"That was hilarious. You should've seen your face."

He smiled at me.

"I bet it was hilarious."

"It was. Trust me."

"I do. I'd do it again to see you laugh that hard."

I adjusted my head to look at him. He was dripping in juice, some of his hair sticking to his forehead, stocky shoulders damp and hovering over me on the floor. His eyes really were the bluest I've ever seen, like a clear sky or an ocean or something. And I was close enough to count all twenty-nine freckles again. And his smile was crooked and genuine and happy and he was looking at me like that and I had this weird stutter-breath in my chest thing happen and my stomach hurt again, for a whole other reason, but still good. It was a good hurt. Always a good hurt.

-0-

"Do you have any idea what the second task is?" Jo asked, munching on some snack.

"If you're wondering if I've somehow used my years of experience with Mother's shrieking to decode that banshee scream via the golden egg, I haven't."

"I just wonder what it's going to be, you know? I mean the first task was a little dangerous, I mean, dragons for Merlin's sake! It makes me wonder what else is going to happen."

"Dumbledore did say people died in this." I noted.

"I hope it isn't Harry." She muttered.

"Yeah. That would indeed be a downer."

-0-

I honestly had not foreseen it. If I could have…I don't know what I would've done. Swap him for Granger, maybe? But she was missing too, which I was assuming she was already holding position under there. Maybe switch him out for Percy.

Fred was a mess. His baby brother was under water, though I told him they wouldn't let Ron die, and he knew that. They couldn't let him die because he hadn't entered the tournament, he hadn't agreed to it. Dumbledore reassured Fred that Ron and Hermione and the others were fine. It was just a challenge for the players.

And then Fred was furious. Furious they would allow his brother to enter the damned lake at all. Furious they'd risk him like this. Merpeople weren't known for being kind. What if they didn't play by the rules and they killed him and Harry and Hermione anyways? How could they entrust his brother's life to Merpeople?

And I couldn't really say anything to that because…well I'd be a wreck if Jo was in there. Or Val or Emma, of course. I couldn't imagine the anxiousness the Weasleys would be feeling, just to get this over with. I'd just want the whole mess done with too. I did want the whole mess done with. I was used to Fred harassing me, to him being carefree and amusing and happy. I didn't like the lines by his mouth because he was frowning or the wrinkles between his eyebrows because they were drawn together, or the tense look in his eyes and his shoulders.

It wasn't right for him to be this way. He's supposed to be happy and irritating me. I was almost mad at Dumbledore for agreeing to something that would make him like this. But it wasn't Dumbledore's fault, and Fred was already freaking out. I couldn't do the same thing. One of us had to be sane or Hogwarts would collapse or something.

"Fred, remember to breath." I urged him softly.

We gazed anxiously out at the water. Fleur Delacour had already come up and was quite distressed until they told her that her sister wasn't in danger. She was quite upset with herself, though, that she hadn't saved her. Krum and Cedric had come up though with Cho and Hermione in tow and now we waited on Harry. Cedric looked to be talking to Dumbledore quite animatedly though, wrapped in a towel and Dumbledore was nodding. Hermione was pacing behind us, Ginny and Jo watching her while standing with George.

"Why aren't they back?" Fred asked.

"Maybe they're taking the scenic route."

Fred glanced down at me and I shrugged, staring back at the water.

"I hear it's very beautiful down there." I murmured.

Fred's hands were gripped the bar so tight his knuckles were turning white. Without much thought on my part, my left hand moved to cover his hand and he flipped them over so our fingers slotted tightly together and he squeezed my hand, eyes searching the waters.

And then they were there and Harry not only had Ron but the little Delacour in tow and people were cheering and names were being announced and Fleur was beside herself and Ginny was hugging a soaked Ron and Harry was confused mostly and then they decided Harry wasn't last and everything was chaotic and everyone was okay and my hand was still firmly in Fred's and I figured_, Yeah, okay, what the hell, we can date or whatever_.


	24. With Every Bubble She Sank: Jo

With Every Bubble She Sank

_Love is a Battlefield_ Chapter 24

Since the Yule Ball, the Wilde and Weasleys parties were hanging out a lot. For some Merlin-forsaken reason, Joss and Fred and George and mostly to my great annoyance Lee Bloody Jordan were always having a jolly good chin wag at breakfast, lunch, dinner, in between classes, during classes, at the dormitories, and any other location that took their fancy. The most stressful time period was Before the Second Task, During the Second Task, and the Holy-kneazles-this-monstrosity-is-over-let's-crack-open-the-butterbear-and-oh-that-illegal-fire-whiskey-too After the Second Task. I had the upmost faith in Dumbledore, but having not one or two but _three_ housemates spending an inhuman amount of time underwater was something that only had to be lived through once, if at all.

It was like we were magnetized, negative and positive drawn together in some static electricity spell. The dry wind was ruffling our robes and tangling in our hair, spreading fingers of ions to bring us together, sticking, sparking when separated. It was weird, magic crawling under my ribs or the skin of my arms and fingers. I would try to get away, set up my own little bubble of repulsion, spend an indecent amount of time in the shower to get the feeling off,but after an hour or so I was back with them, out of some uncontrollable choice.

I had a sickening feeling in my stomach that all of the Wilde grandchildren would be carrots.

Just to keep something my own and not directed at a certain person who had become my special concern after the events of the Yule Ball, I had done the Gryffindor unthinkable and checked out a book, _The Wandless Wizard _by Erik the One-Handed, from the library (honestly, Granger should have been in Ravenclaw. It was bloody ridiculous). I read it before bed sometimes, Alicia and Angelina a bit curious, but tell me to pass on any information I found helpful. At least they had stopped slyly giggling at me and making subtle innuendos implying that I should just ask the bloke out already. I had Potter rumor circus to thank for that.

That Rita Skeeter woman probably belonged to a special circle of Dante's annoyance hell. Was there a special circle in hell for annoying slags? There ought to be. Maybe one where they have to listen to each other for ages. Her article was a tad ridiculous, as was the Slytherins' damned immature button campaign, and anybody who so much as looked at Harry could tell he was no sniveling whimsy. The bloke was fourteen and holding his own in the Triwizard. Not that putting fourteen year olds in death tourneys was a good idea in the first place, or even _having_ a death tourney, but...at least Joss wasn't in it. I couldn't seem to shake the contrast of brown and red and ginger and blue and very, very pale white that made up Twins on the day of the Second Task.

I shook myself. Let's not think about it. Let's think about what we're doing now, which is getting away from the strangeness that is the Weasleys and doing some solid pranking.

I was in what Myrtle assured me was one of the most frequented boy's water closets instead of polishing up the latest Potions essay because I had enough good marks in that class that I could let this one slide a little. It was a free period and, despite every professor's attempt to make it seem otherwise, I was not taking NEWTs this year, so my free periods were going to be free, damn it.

I also didn't care if any boys saw me blatantly spelling things on their bathroom ceiling. I didn't even flinch when I heard the door open. I just kept doing what I was doing, expecting some sort of girlish yelp when they noticed the very female Hogwarts student laying down on the floor with her wand pointed at the ceiling. But instead I got this:

"Jo, what are you doing?"

I closed my eyes. It was one of the Weasley Twins. Merlin's pants and a pack of erumpents. "The better question, Weasley, is what are you destined to do here? Because I would best get it over with."

"This is a bathroom. What do you think I'm destined to do here?"

"I told you to get it over with."

"Don't you have an essay like the rest of us?"

"Hmmmm, yes. But I don't care."

"Lovely. Mind if I join you then?"

I opened my eyes and sighed, feeling the tingling, the magnets, the pull. Some part of me wanted this carrot-head to be there, no matter which Twin it was. Though I hoped for Joss's sake it wasn't Fred. I would actually prefer that too. And by the direction their relationship was going, I was 70% sure it wasn't Fred.

"Alright, then."

He scooted over to me and laid down, his new proximity, much to my displeasure, causing my stomach to flutter. I didn't look at him. We could be watching the clouds if not for the fact we were inside. Instead there was a kind of sinking or lowering feeling, probably from facing the suspended rock ceiling that could conceivably come down to crush us.

"You know, I could think of much cleaner places to lay your head."

"I sanitized the floor. Simple cleaning spell."

"I thank you for that. Now what _are_ you doing, Josephine?"

I stuck out my tongue. "Jo, please. And read it."

"'Potter Rules'"

"Yes, he does."

"But writing 'Potter Rules' on the ceiling in some in what I sincerely hope is very nice red ink does not require a whole free period, even if it's on the ceiling."

I grinned. "Watch. When Filch comes to clean it..."

I flicked my wand and a new message oozed out of the stone. "Potter really rules." I flicked it again. "Slytherins suck." Flick. "Slytherins suck eggs." Flick. "Filch stop." Flick. "Obviously this is not working." Flick. "Go snog Madame Pince." Flick. "Potter & Diggory are both True Champions." Flick. "Jo Wilde for Prime Minister." I made a loop formation with my wand and it returned to the 'Potter Rules' message. "As soon as he cleans one layer, the next should appear. I'm trying to decide what else to say."

There was a pause. "That's brilliant," he said softly, almost a whisper.

_That_ made me turn my head. Please, dear Merlin, let this not be Fred. Let it be the certain someone of special concern. Let it be George. The image of George I had almost drunkenly tried to memorize during the Ball was now only a watery memory, too indistinct to be used to help distinguish them. That had to be something, some trick to telling them apart. Whatever it was I hadn't found it in the intervening weeks.

The be-freckled and ginger man-boy-wizard's face was startling close to mine, almost too close to get the whole picture. He was smiling at me, his (vaguely muscular?) arms folded behind his head, his long hair accenting his lazily tied Gryffindor tie. I studied his face, hoping for some unconscious clue as to his identity. He shifted a bit uncomfortably.

"I didn't know you wanted to be Prime Minister," he said.

"I don't." I arched an eyebrow at him, hoping to dispel the tension my staring was causing. "I thought the absurdity of the statement would make that clear. Can you imagine a witch Prime Minister? She'd just spell her opponents into agreeing with her." During the last election, Mum had gone on a politics binge, finding out every single dirty tabloid secret about the runners so she could complain, mock, and gossip about them with her friends. She switched her abuse to one side or the other depending on who she was talking to.

Twin chuckled. "Mmm, I see your point." He turned back to the ceiling. "I'm frankly more concerned about this interest in Diggory and Potter you seem to have. Potter is under age, you know."

I snorted. "I don't _fancy_ them, if that's what you're worried about."

I swear the Weasley almost growled. "Are you sure? Every time you're with Alicia and Katie and Angelina, it's 'Cedric this' and 'Harry that.' And you're writing their names on the ceiling."

"That's because _they_ fancy Cedric, and Harry's in our House and going through a bloody awful death tourney that he probably doesn't care for and everybody's on his back about it. I thought he could use some support." I was getting angry now. If this was Fred, then what right did he have to notice these things? If it was George, why (stomach flutter) did he even give care? Sure, the Twins and I (and Lee Jordan) had been hanging out more, but I generally switched about friend circles. Even George didn't have a special claim on me.

To tell the truth, I desperately wanted this boy to be George. I was semi-okay with the weird magnets, the compulsion to hang out more with them because I wanted to catch him alone. I wanted to find out if the incident at the Yule was what I thought it was: nothing. George was just being a friend, right? A friend I could never seem to get alone. Somebody else like Lee or Joss or the other Twin were always there. This was in fact the first time I had been alone with either identical prankster.

And now I was mad at him.

He complained, "But you're always amazed at Harry, more so than the others. You're always on about how amazing he was at the Second Task with his 'moral fiber' and whatnot. When you first saw the Potter Stinks badges, you almost punched the kid in face!"

"So did you!" I snapped, sitting up to look at him. The electricity that kept me attached to the Twins seemed to be crackling.

He sat up to face me, shoulders tense, fingers splayed out like knives on the floor to support his weight. "If you recall, I was holding Fred back from sending that second year to a week in the hospital wing."

Shitfuck. This _was_ George. I didn't know whether I wanted to vomit or burst. We stared at each other, eyes boring in. I couldn't breathe. I felt so hot. Maybe the room had set fire. But really, if the Yule was nothing, if the final Wilde sibling wasn't going to be with a Weasley...

"You have no right," I whispered.

George seemed to deflate. He broke our eye contact, head going down into his hands as he folded up his legs into himself. "I know I don't. I'm sorry."

I started shaking, all of sudden feeling so cold. I didn't want to be attached, right? Getting attached meant it could be taken away. A wand without a wizard is just a fancy stick. Dad had been taken away and Mum broke. I couldn't, I can't, _I don't want to_.

"Jo, are you alright?" I had squeezed my eyes shut. "Jo?"

Arms were around me, holding me to a warm chest. I took a shaky breath and smelled Charms and cashews. I buried my face into it. He started making soothing circles into my back, murmuring, "I'm sorry."

He held me like that for what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes. I didn't know what I was doing anymore. What even _was_ that past conversation? It seemed like it had been going on about three different levels. Every girl wanted a significant other and this boy maybe, probably, I-don't-know, was likely willing to be mine. But that thought was terrifying.

Flippertigibit.

I sucked in a breath. I had to fix it. Somehow.

I extracted myself from the Weasley, crouching in front of him. I placed my hands on either side of his face, making him look at me. His eyelids fluttered at the touch.

"Jo-"

"Shut up and listen."

His eyes snapped to me, his pupils focusing on my face.

"I do not fancy Cedric or Harry. Or any other Hogwarts bloke, for that matter."

George frowned and looked about to protest, but I cut him off, "I don't fancy anybody, magical, Muggle, or otherwise." He smiled, the shadow of his usual smirk.

"And we're friends. And I want to keep it that way. Okay?" I did what I felt like doing and put my forehead to his, closing my eyes to better breathe in his scent.

"Okay," he whispered, staying stock still, like he was afraid that if he moved I would scare off, like the shy augurey we'd seen in Care of Magical Creatures last lesson.

"Excellent," I smiled, head-butting him a little and standing up. Brushing off imaginary dust from my skirt in an attempt to look nonchalant, I continued, "Now go get your twin."

"What? Why?" George was kind of adorable when he was confused, his head quirking to the side like a puppy.

"Just go un-attach him from Joss and bring him here." I tried for a devious smile. "I'm sure you're up to the challenge."

"Merlin. I'll brave it, my bird." He rose, turned to go, and then crinkled his nose. "What if they're snogging?"

"I'm sure you've seen worse at the bottom of a failed practical Potions exam: now just go." I waved a hand at him. "I'll be here when you get back."

He finally left and I turned to look up at my unfinished prank. I flicked it to the last message Filch would see, "Jo Wilde for Prime Minister." With a flourish of my wand, I made one underneath it: "George is the best Weasley Twin."

I looped my wand and the prank was ready to alarm anyone who dared to look up. I hoped it would last awhile.

The Twins timed their entrance to that exact minute, both looking very confused. I assumed George had filled Fred in on some of the details, or at least that I was in command of this situation. "Line up side by side."

"George, what is she doing, should I have some protection for this or-"

"Just shut up and let her get on with it, Forge. I'll nick some pudding from the kitchens for you later."

The one-that-must-be-Fred seemed to light up. "Joss could go for a cheesesteak."

I approached the pair as they bantered, but they quieted as I drew nearer. I looked at their faces, thinking, memorizing, trying to find a difference. I walked back and forth, studying their faces.

They were so identical. Their heads were the same shape. Fred's hair was a bit shaggier, but hair could change. Eyes the same shape and color. There must be something. Anything. I reached out and lifted George's chin, trying to see if their necks were different.

"George, I'm not going to lie. This is kind of kinky," said Fred.

"I know where your stash of rubbers is and I will gladly set it on fire," I stated. "Let you deal with a celibate or pregnant Joss."

Fred startled a bit and George tried to suppress a laugh. I let his chin down and looked back towards his eyes.

Then it hit me.

_Freckles_.

The Weasley Twins, like other members of their family no doubt, were born with freckles. But an important fact about Weasley freckles is that they got even more of them from being outside. They're British: they don't tan. They just get more freckles And even on twins, sun-kissed freckles can't be identical. They are not the same person exposed to the same amount of sunlight in the same exact spot. They are George and Fred. And George had a cluster of freckles near his left eye that Fred was missing. A constellation to tell the difference by. A raised batch of dyed skin bubbles.

I swiped a finger across them. "George." I looked at the other. "Fred."

"I knew it," George said. "I knew you couldn't tell us apart."

"Most of the school can't, I think," added Fred. "We test people occasionally, saying one is the other for the day. Surprising who gets it wrong."

"Sometimes Ron can't tell."

"Embarrassing that is. What a way to show brotherly love."

"I want something drizzled in chocolate now," I interrupted. "Let's get Joss."

"Right this way, ma'm," said George, holding an arm out to me.

I took it and all three of us exit, leaving the red-stained 'Potter Rules' behind us.


	25. First Date Fail: Val

**A/N: Val's POV**

Spring was coming to a close, and although Charlie and I had been seeing each other every week, we'd not moved forward physically and we hadn't used any words to define or solidify the relationship. Why not? Well... we decided that was part of the deal with taking things slow. I wasn't ready to sleep with him yet (as much as my body ached to), and he wasn't ready to parade me around as his girlfriend. It wasn't so bad. There weren't too many people to parade me around in front of, anyway, and I wasn't even sure I wanted his coworkers involved in our love life.

Sure, it probably wasn't normal, but what about Charlie and I was normal to begin with?

So there we were, at the tavern, cuddled up in a booth, enjoying each other's very physical company.

"What do you think the Third Task is going to be?" Charlie asked, casually braiding a strand of my hair.

We'd stopped drinking together, especially publically, after that first drinking fiasco.

"I don't know." I sighed. "Obviously something with creatures if they've got a creature specialist on hand."

Emma had told me in a letter that she had been tapped to be on hand for the event.

"Mmm-hmm," he muttered. "Listen, love, I've gotta go to the loo, I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

"Yeah," I said happily, sipping my water as he kissed me on the cheek and took off.

Not even a minute later, I was no longer alone. Felix, of all people, had slid in beside me, obviously intoxicated, pressing me toward the wall.

"Hey thar, Valerie," Felix slurred. "Looking pretty tonight."

"Mmm," I muttered, frowning at my water, avoiding looking at Felix.

"Whatsamatter?" he muttered against my neck. "Not happy to see me? I'm sure happy to see you."

"I could tell," I sighed, trying to pull his hand off my thigh.

"C'mon," he said, spilling a bit of his drink on me. "C'mon, baby, let's go back to my flat and I'll show you what a real man's made of."

"No, thanks, Felix," I insisted, trying to squirm away, but he didn't leave me much room between him and the wall of the booth. His hand was working its way up my thigh rather quickly and all I wanted to do was disappear.

"C'mon, baby," he said again. "C'mon, we can do it right here if you'd rather. It's sort of dark, nobody would know."

I could feel nothing but disgust building up in my stomach, and his hand was getting too close to my more intimate parts for comfort, but the more firmly I tried to remove his hand from my leg the more I realized that Felix would very easily be able to overpower me. The thought replaced the disgust with panic and the wish that Charlie would return quickly.

"Nice, short skirt," Felix said with a sloppy grin against my ear. "It'd be so easy for you to just climb onto my lap and-"

"Felix, please," I groaned, finding myself fighting against his efforts to pull me onto his lap. It was easier said than done.

"Oh, love if you want to beg," he chuckled drunkenly into my face as he was pulling me onto his legs. I was struggling all the way, but he was quite strong and the way he held me made getting to my wand impossible. "I think we can arrange for that. I think you'd look so good on your knees, begging for me. Would you like that?"

"Felix, stop it," I growled, trying in vain to get out of his grasp again as he continued to laugh into my face.

I could see Charlie approaching with a dark look in his eyes and I looked at him pleadingly.

"Put her down, Felix," Charlie said in a low, dangerous voice that just went right over Felix's drunken head.

"Hey there, Charlie," Felix said, obviously trying to pinch my ass but missing and pinching the middle of my back instead. "Wanna join in? I'd say she's got the energy enough for both of us. Wanna piece?"

"Put her down right now, Felix, or I swear I'll punch you in the face and throw you out of here myself."

Felix frowned, loosening his grip on me enough that I could scramble out of the booth, right into Charlie's arms.

"What's your deal, man?" Felix hissed. "Think you can have her all to yourself?"

"I think," Charlie growled back at him, "that when a woman says 'stop', that isn't an invitation to continue harassing her."

"She doesn't know what she wants," Felix said with a bitter laugh. "She hasn't had what she needs yet."

"She doesn't need you," Charlie said softly, wrapping his arms more tightly around me. "She doesn't want you. You need to go home, sober up, and get your brain back on track. But if I see you do as much as blink at her again the wrong way, I'll cut your throat."

I shivered, noting his sincerity. I clutched at his shirt, noting that my legs were weak and shaky, probably from the panic.

Felix blinked at us, opened his mouth, but Charlie didn't give him a chance to say any more disgusting things on the matter, leading me carefully out of the tavern, thanking the barman on the way out.

"Are you okay?" he said firmly, almost angrily.

"Shaken up," I admitted, "but I'll be all right. He was stronger than I thought. I... I..."

"It's all right," he said in a much softer voice. "I'm not going to let him touch you again. I promise."

"Oi, Charlie!"

I froze, feeling fear build up inside me at the sound of Felix's voice, following us away from the tavern.

"Damn it," Charlie spat. "Hang on, Val. If we don't take care of this now, he's only going to follow us."

"Yeah," I sighed, as he gently set me down on some grass on the side of the road and pulled out his wand turning to face Felix.

"Go back inside Felix," he said in a warning tone, "or leave us alone and go home. Make your choice quickly or I'll make it for you."

Felix raised his wand, but pointed it not at Charlie, but at me. Before Felix even had a chance to get the Summoning Charm out of his lips, Charlie put a Shield Charm between Felix and me, blocking the spell and any other attempts to do something to me. Then he flicked his wand at Felix and had him flying backwards.

"I've got you," Charlie said, pulling me to my feet and turning sharply on his heel, Apparating us to the spot just by my flat. He walked me to the door, which I unlocked with a shaky hand, and he helped me inside, settling me down on the futon and making some tea.

"I can't believe that happened," I managed to say once I'd drank half my cuppa. "I can't believe any of that just happened."

"I'm sorry," Charlie said sincerely, as if it had somehow been his fault.

"Don't be," I insisted. "Felix is the one who should be sorry."

"He probably will be, come the morning," Charlie sighed. "When he sobers up. This wasn't the sort of date I wanted, obviously. How do you feel?"

"Scared," I said in a voice that came out much smaller than I'd intended.

"Oh, Valley," he sighed, wrapping his arms around me tightly, encasing me in the warmth of his hug. I winced, and even though I didn't want him to see, he noticed, probably from the tension in my body rather than the look on my face. "Are you all right?" he asked. "Did he hurt you?"

"I think there might be some bruising," I admitted. "Like I said, he's stronger than I thought."

"Do you have a salve?" he asked. I nodded, telling him it was in the bathroom, with some of my other medicines and potions Emma had made for me before I left each time I visited, insisting that I needed to keep my medicine cabinet well-stocked.

"I want to take a shower before I put it on, though," I sighed. "I'll be quick about it. You finish your tea. Then can you help me with the salve?"

"I'd love to," Charlie said with a sad sort of smile and I kissed his cheek, heading in to take a shower.

It was difficult to keep my hands from shaking, and the thought that Charlie was just a couple of rooms away was making it even harder to calm myself, considering the fact that I was wearing nothing but my skin.

True to my word, I kept the shower as quick as I could, not bothering to dry my hair, but wrapping myself in a fluffy towel, grabbing the bruise salve, and hurrying back out to where Charlie was. I was surprised, however to find him not sitting down, but on his feet, frowning out the window.

"What's wrong?" I asked. He jumped a little at the sound of my voice, but he continued to frown out the window.

"Felix is down there," he muttered. "I think he's waiting for you to come out again."

I shivered.

"Can you help me put the salve on?" I said softly, moving over to him by the window, wrapping my arms around him.

"You have no idea," he said with a bitter sort of chuckle. "You have no idea what you're doing to me. Sure, I'll help. I suppose you'll have to take off the towel."

"Yeah," I said, swallowing hard as he led me over to the futon, sat me down, and undid the towel. His breath hitched and he licked his lips a little bit, his eyes raking over my naked, damp skin, but his eyes darkened dangerously once more when he caught sight of the bruises on my thighs, wrists, and waist.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, daubing some salve onto my wrists first. It was cool and it tickled, but I bit my lip to keep from giggling inappropriately.

"Here," he breathed, moving to my waist. "Is there any on the back?"

"At least one, yeah," I sighed.

"The pinch," he said with a wince. "Looks like the backs of your thighs are pretty well bruised, too."

My breath caught when his fingertips began spreading the salve on my thighs, starting near the knee and moving upward. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I thought his hands might be shaking. I found myself biting my lip to hold in not a giggle, but a moan.

When he'd covered the front part of my legs, he told me to lie on my stomach, and I did so, observing that the bruises on my wrists had already begun to fade. Thank Merlin for magic.

I did hear Charlie stifling a groan when he began putting salve on the backs of my thighs. I did shiver a bit, but he finished rather quickly, putting a bit of salve on the spot on my back last of all.

"I guess," he sighed. "I guess you probably are tired."

"Yeah," I muttered. I could tell that he didn't want to leave, and I didn't want him to leave either. Then it hit me. "Is Felix still out there?"

Charlie glanced out the window and nodded.

"I don't feel... I don't feel comfortable alone tonight, Charlie. You won't leave me while he's out there?"

Charlie stiffened.

"I guess I could sleep on the futon," he said slowly. "Keep an eye on things."

"Don't be ridiculous," I sighed, sitting up again, noticing that he was avoiding looking at me. "My bed's plenty bit for the both of us. I don't want to be alone, Charlie. Not tonight."

He hesitated, but Charlie finally agreed. I wrapped myself in the towel again, leading Charlie into my bedroom, dropping the towel as I fished around for something to wear at night.

To my surprise, Charlie just pulled off his shirt and jeans and pulled me into bed before I'd found anything to wear. My heart was racing as he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, and I knew he could feel it. He touched my back tenderly where it had been bruised, but the bruise was already healed. Realizing that I didn't flinch at his touch, he kissed me a bit more eagerly, rolling me onto my back and laying over my naked body beneath the sheets. It took me a moment to realize that his body was between my legs through the haze of desire that was overcoming me.

Despite knowing somewhere in the back of my mind that I wanted him so, so badly, despite feeling his hardness through the fabric of his boxers as it jutted against my leg, despite the fact that we were trying to take things slow, I kissed him back just as eagerly, dragging my nails down his back, which lead to him moan into my mouth, which turned me on all the more.

"Charlie," I managed to gasp when he relinquished my lips in favor of my neck. "Charlie this is... I mean, we..."

I could feel him clutching the sheets on either side of me, steadying himself. After a few moments he said, "Too soon?"

"Sort of," I muttered. "It's just not... not the right time. You know..."

"Felix," he sighed. "Yeah. I get it."

He rolled off of me and once again I felt the sudden loss of his warmth and weight like a knife in the heart. To show him it wasn't his fault, that I wasn't angry with him or blaming him, I rolled over into his body, allowing him to wrap his arms around me like he had in England, encasing me in his warmth as he placed a tender kiss on my neck.

"I'll have to remember to thank Emma for the salve," I sighed. "I always complain when she gives me more medical supplies, but I guess she really does know what she's doing."

"Mmm-hmm," Charlie muttered, breathing in my hair very conspicuously.

"What do you want to do next week?" I teased.

"Something that lets me be the only one who can touch you," Charlie breathed. "Have you been to Sighisoara?"

"No," I said, tracing shapes along his chiseled chest. "What's there?"

"A nice little medieval town and a vampire community, but we wouldn't go near the vampires. I'm the only person allowed to bite you."

He nipped playfully at my ear and I giggled, squirming a bit.

"Sure," I sighed. "Sighisoara it is. Is it my pick the next week?"

"Absolutely," he whispered. "I remember you expressed an interest in going north now that it's warming up. I could take you to see Tallinn. I know you like historic cities. It's beautiful."

"I'd love that," I sighed. Sighisoara, Tallinn... That boy was going to drag me all along all over Eastern Europe, intent on showing me why he loved it so much. What he didn't seem to get was that I already loved it, simply because I associated it with him.

"I suppose we'll have to let people know we're seeing each other, eventually," I muttered.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Probably ought to tell them when all this madness with the Tournament's over. You know, Bill and Mum are going to the Third Task. There's no way his aunt and uncle are going and Harry ought to have someone there, says Mum. Dad couldn't get time off work."

"So Bill and Emma are both going to be there?" I chuckled. "That ought to be interesting. I almost wish I could see it, but we couldn't be alone that way. We'd probably have to socialize with your mother and brother and my sisters and I just don't have that sort of energy."

"Is that why we haven't shagged yet?" Charlie teased. "You don't think you have the energy?"

"You think too highly of your stamina, Weasley," I teased back. "There are definitely other reasons. For example, Felix, that co-worker of yours who's waiting outside the building."

"Yeah," Charlie muttered. "I know. Anyway, you think Harry could win it?"

"I really don't know," I said honestly. "I don't know the kid. Tonks is pretty excited about it, though, following him in the papers."

"Most people are," Charlie whispered. "Valley?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. I'm sorry about tonight."

"It's not your fault that Felix is twice his usual idiot when drunk."

"I should have been there."

"Also not your fault that you have a bladder."

"Still."

"I'm not bothering to forgive you, you know, because you didn't do anything."

"I know. I love you."

"I love you, too."

He kissed my nose gently, then my lips, and said, "Good night, love."

We curled up and I just kept nuzzling him, letting him pet my hair until his hand slowed and he fell asleep. In the moonlight, I looked up at his face, and he looked so peaceful. I raised a hand to brush some of his beautiful red hair out of his face and felt how surprisingly soft the skin on his face was compared with his hands. My fingertips traced the line of his jaw, not wanting to stop when I reached his chin, but the line stopped.

For a moment I just watched him sleep, but then he began muttering something in his sleep. I frowned, not sure if I should figure out what he was saying or try to wake him up.

"Uhn," he moaned. "Val... Oh, _Val_!"

I blinked.

Was he... was he dreaming about me?

"Oh, yes," he gasped. "Uhn, _yes_!"

My eyes widened.

Charlie was having sex dreams about me.

In a way, I realized I should have been too surprised, seeing as he'd been on the verge of having sex with me for weeks, but having him right there, verbally urging my dream-self onward in the act was just a bit... Well, awkward was a good word.

I was beginning to realize just how tough it was going to be, taking things slow.


	26. Day That Never Should've Happened: Emma

Merlin, I hated whoever's idea it was to have such a dangerous tournament for such little kids. Okay, seventeen might legally be of age but they weren't possibly ready for what was out there. I'd seen the maze when I'd arrived at the castle with my team of Mediwizards. This was the first time that I headed a group like this and I would have been more excited for if I didn't feel like I was going to go watch the slaughter of children.

The maze was filled with dangerous creatures, Ludo Bagman explained to us. It was full of Acromantulas, Sphinxes, and other deadly creatures. The Champion had to find their way through the maze, battle through the creatures and find the Triwizard Cup at the center of the maze. If the Champions couldn't, and probably wouldn't, survive the trip through the maze then our team was supposed to go in and save them with the help of some of the professors.

I hated this. It was my job as a Healer to keep people safe and I felt like I was going to have to watch people walk into danger and then hope I could get to them in time in case things went bad.

Our first duty of the evening was to find the Champions in a chamber off of the Great Hall and clarify that none of the Champions had taken any performance-enhancing substances. This seemed to be at the request of Madam Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons. There was some speculation that it was just a pathetic attempt for her to get her Champion (who had the least amount of points amongst the four of them) some sort of advantage over the competition. I suppose the only thing that they were going to be able to do was deduct points if one of the Champions was taking a performance potion of some sort. The Goblet of Fire was very stringent about the fact that all of the Champions had to compete in all of the Tasks, regardless of circumstances.

My team consisted of four Mediwizards underneath me. I had Rosemary Wales, who'd been at St. Mungo's almost as long as I, Gary Byers, who'd been licensed for almost a year, Frank Hedges, who'd been a Mediwizard since before I even started at Hogwarts, and Aaron Hastings, a skirt chasing whelp who'd barely been licensed for a month and a half. I would have been more than happy to leave Aaron at St. Mungo's where he belonged but apparently his uncle was a big contributor to the hospital so my wishes were ignored. Rosemary and Frank were the best in the business and I was glad to have them watching my back if we had to go into the maze. Gary was a little green but he wasn't nearly as incompetent or arrogant as Aaron.

"Remember your manners, Hastings," I told Aaron warningly as our team marched towards the Great Hall. "And remember what I told you about behaving."

"Yes ma'am," he huffed unhappily, trudging behind the rest of us. I'd warned him that we were there to work and that I wasn't going to tolerate anything that put that work in jeopardy. "I don't see why you're just riding me. There are three others, you know."

"Yeah but I don't have to worry about the others trying to chat up underage students," I retorted.

Rosemary snickered but covered it up as a cough. I wasn't the only one who got annoyed with Aaron's skirt chasing. Rosemary and I both had to tell him to knock it off at least several times a day. Luckily my attitude towards him made him realize that I wasn't the type of bird worth his effort.

I couldn't help but feel for the families who were there to watch their children compete in a dangerous, life-threatening competition. Being there made the realization that Joss was almost a Champion even more real. If she'd been chosen would Mum have braved Hogwarts to watch her compete? I knew that Val would come from Romania in a heartbeat and Jo was already there but Mum? I wanted to say that she'd get over her prejudice of magic for Joss' sake but I wasn't convinced.

"We start with the foreign schools first," I informed my team before we went into the chamber. "Beauxbatons then Durmstrang then Hogwarts. Let's try not to look too partial to any one Champion, alright? The last thing we need is for Karkaroff or Maxime crying about 'biased' treatment."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Aaron rolled his eyes at me disinterestedly. "I'm pretty sure we all know how to placate a few old fogies."

"No, I was talking to the others. You know, the ones who didn't pass their training due to nepotism," I retorted in a falsely sweet tone. "Your job is just to keep it in your trousers. I'm sure that's going to be more than enough for you to remember so feel free to write it down if you feel overwhelmed."

Rosemary snorted while Gary pretended not to smirk. Aaron was clearly not as amused. "Just because you hate all men doesn't give you the right to be a bitch," he snapped.

"Hastings, darling, I don't know all the men in the world to hate them. Now watch your language and try to behave. If you can't manage that then I'll send you back to the hospital before you can say 'uncle'," I informed him. "We're going inside now so best behavior please."

If I thought that keeping Joss in line was hard then keeping Aaron to mind himself was impossible. I'd never had to worry about her trying to chat up the equivalent of thirteen year old blokes. Aaron, however, was a completely different story.

The families inside the chamber didn't seem to share my sentiment about the horror of this whole tournament. They seemed all to be just happy to be able to see their loved ones, probably not having seen them since Easter if not Christmas. You wouldn't have known by looking at the way the parents were behaving that their children were about to be put in danger within a few short hours.

I led my team into the chamber, heading straight towards Fleur Delacour, the only female Champion. She was easy to spot because I remembered Joss and Jo complaining about her in their letters. She was the only silver-haired seventeen-year-old in the room after all. "Miss Delacour," I greeted her politely. "I'm Emma Wilde, a Healer from St. Mungo's. Madam Maxime has asked that all the Champions be tested for performance enhancers. I need to run a few tests. It won't take more than a few minutes."

Fleur looked at me with casual indifference. I didn't know if she was as prejudiced against the British as Joss and Jo had said or if she was irritated that I interrupted her time with her family. "If zat is what Madam Maxime wants," she nodded.

I waved my wand across her, not bothering to make small talk. I didn't like her snobbish attitude and I didn't think I'd have anything to say to her that wouldn't be considered rude. I was glad when her tests came back clean and I could go my separate ways from her.

"Miss Delacour, this is Frank Hedges. He'll be your shadow until the Task starts," I informed her. "It's just yet another precaution Madam Maxime thinks is necessary for a fair competition. Good luck."

I pitied Frank but I knew that he was the best choice to leave with her. I didn't trust Aaron around her, I didn't think Rosemary could keep her comments to herself if Fleur did end up being as snobbish as Joss and Jo had said, and Gary was likely to let her walk all over him.

I moved silently across the room with Rosemary, Aaron, and Gary behind me. They weren't technically certified to perform these tests on their own because they were only Mediwizards. If they had been then I would have just assigned them a Champion and told them to test them themselves.

Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker from Durmstrang, was standing in the corner of the room with his parents. I wasn't as intimidated by him as I assumed I was going to be. He'd seemed so larger than life at the Quidditch World Cup but now I just saw him as an idiot chasing after the promise of "eternal glory".

"Mr. Krum," I greeted him slowly, unsure of how well his English was. He didn't necessarily seem that intelligent anyways. "I'm a Healer and I've been sent to run a few tests before the Task begins."

He gave me a short nod before continuing his conversation with his parents in Bulgarian. I guess he wanted to talk to me about as much as I'd wanted to talk to Fleur. I didn't mind. I wasn't sure what I would be able to say to him anyways that didn't sound forced or out of place.

I waved my wand over him, waiting for some sort of the spell to have some sort of reaction. There was a faint golden glow giving us the all the clear. "Thank you. Gary, please keep Mr. Krum company before the Task starts."

Gary nodded while Aaron scowled at me. I'd successfully given the only female Champion and the Quidditch star to anyone but him. In fact, I had no intention of letting him leave my side. I couldn't beat him for being an idiot if he wasn't within arm's reach now could I?

I victoriously led Rosemary and Aaron towards the Diggory family, glad to make Aaron angry whenever I could. "Amos, Cedric, Mrs. Diggory," I nodded at them. "The Headmistress of Beauxbatons has asked that I do a few tests to make sure that no one's using any performance enhancers."

Amos looked at me shrewdly, "Are you doing this for all of the Champions or did she single out my son?"

"I'm doing it for all of the Champions," I assured him. "It's just a standard precautionary measure, Amos. We all know that Cedric wouldn't do anything to taint his potential victory."

"It's alright, Dad," Cedric told him when he didn't seem to believe me. "I already saw her test Krum and Delacour. I don't have anything to hide."

I smiled appreciatively towards him, "I'm sure you don't." I waved my wand at him, not surprised to see the golden glow at all. "All clean. Rosemary here is just going to shadow you for a while to make sure that nothing happens before the Task starts. Good luck, Cedric."

I grabbed Aaron roughly by the elbow, dragging him with me to the last Champion. I almost didn't notice the two sets of flaming ginger hair by the fireplace. The Weasleys. Was it just me or did one of them look like their hair was a little shaggy? _Bill?_

I yanked Aaron violently towards the young Champion and his present "family". Even if the ginger wasn't Bill (which it probably wouldn't be) then I still wouldn't mind seeing any one of the other Weasleys.

"Oi! Be gentle!" he complained, jerking his arm away. "Isn't it bad enough that I have to spend the whole day with you?"

"If you didn't want to be stuck with me then you should have stayed back at the hospital where you weren't in my way," I retorted.

He scoffed, "I have just as much right to be here as you!"

"No, pet, you don't. You're still wet behind the ears and just barely out of training. You never should have been allowed to come here," I replied.

"I'm a fully certified Mediwizard! I can handle anything that gets thrown my way!" he confidently informed me.

I snorted, "Yeah, right. You haven't had any hands-on experience. You'd be lucky to survive five minutes in there."

"Well you'll just have to see then, won't we?"

"No, we won't," I answered coolly. "You're not going in there. You're staying on the outside."

"WHAT?" he demanded indignantly.

"Wotcher Harry," I ignored him, greeting the last Champion. "How are we feeling today?"

Harry shrugged passively, "I'm alright, thanks."

"Glad to hear it. I just need to run a few tests so Maxime doesn't have an aneurysm, alright? Should only take a moment," I told him, ignoring Aaron's heated glare. "I've just got to make sure you haven't taken anything to give you a competitive edge."

"'Competitive edge'?" he inquired curiously while I waved my wand diagnostically in front of him.

"Performance enhancers," I replied. "You know, potions to make you stronger or faster and whatever. It's just standard procedure to check with things getting so heated with the last Task."

"I'm sorry but who are you exactly?" the ginger matriarch of the Weasley family questioned. "You look somewhat familiar but I can't place your face."

I smiled at her as Harry gave off a faint golden glow, "I'm Emma Wilde. I'm not surprised you don't recognize me considering it's been about six years I haven't seen you since Bill and I graduated from Hogwarts."

"Finally I get mentioned," my favorite Weasley mocked. I looked up to see him grinning at me. I'd been so caught up in my duties as a Healer that I'd completely forgotten that I was looking for him. "I was beginning to think that you were ignoring me."

"No, she's ignoring me," Aaron imputed childishly. "Emma, I don't see why I can't help Frank with the Champion from Beauxbatons. You seem to have everything covered here."

"You can't help Frank with Fleur because you're bound to make a lewd comment and then I wouldn't be there to beat you," I retorted to Aaron calmly. "You're staying with me so I can keep you out of trouble." I turned to Harry, "You're clean in case you were wondering. You're just stuck with this idiot and I until the Task starts. We're supposed to make you don't ingest anything you're not supposed to and to make sure that none of the other Champions feed you anything too dangerous. Yet another precaution Maxime is demanding."

"I wouldn't make any lewd comments!" Aaron exclaimed. "You're being overbearing!"

"And you're being annoying now please stop talking before I Transfigure you into a toad," I informed him.

"Emma Wilde? Wow, you aren't at all how I remember you," Molly slowly nodded. "You look quite a bit like John but you don't talk like him at all."

"Yeah, she is a bit of a -" Aaron began to agree but was caught off by a nonverbal Silencing Charm. I just needed a few minutes of silence before I acted on the urge to strangle him.

"I'm sorry about him," I ignored his wild hand gestures. "He's our newest Mediwizard and just can't seem to stop talking. I didn't inherit much of my father's personality though and what I did inherit is a bit morphed after so many years of my little sisters."

"Yes, you do have little sisters, don't you? How are they?" Molly inquired politely.

"Val is working in Romania as an Eastern European correspondent for the Prophet and she seems to love it. Joss is in her Seventh Year here and getting ready for her NEWTs. She was really upset that she didn't get chosen to participate in the Tournament but I have to admit I'm glad she didn't. Then Jo is the same year as your twins and she seems to be doing well. Overall they're doing pretty good."

I could see Aaron waving his wand frantically at himself but I wasn't surprised that he wasn't any good at nonverbal magic. After all, if he'd been good at magic at all then he would have gotten through Mediwizard training without needing a wealthy philanthropist uncle.

"And you're a Mediwizard then?" Molly questioned.

I shook my head, "I'm a Healer. They decided that due to the dangerous nature of the Task that they needed a full-fledged Healer as well as Mediwizards."

"Do you know how dangerous it's going to be?" Harry questioned.

"The tasks are always dangerous," I informed him. "I can't give you any specifics but if you're as good as my sisters keep telling me then you should be fine."

"These tasks are ridiculous," Molly commented disapprovingly. "The entire idea of this competition is ludicrous."

"I agree," I told her.

"You really are ignoring me, aren't you?" Bill accused with a playful scowl.

"Of course not," I replied before turning to Harry for good measure. "My sisters told me about your performance with the dragons. Using your broom was a pretty original idea."

"Finally!" Aaron exclaimed victoriously after successfully managing get the ability to talk back. "You know, Wilde, that wasn't very nice."

"I wasn't bad," Harry modestly shrugged in response to my earlier compliment.

"EMMA!" Bill complained huffily, feeling a little neglected.

I was mildly overwhelmed by the three different conversations going on. I didn't even know who to respond to first. "Harry, you're being modest. It really was brilliant, I'm sure. Trust me, Joss doesn't gush over things very often so it must have been pretty impressive. Aaron, if you minded your manners then I wouldn't have to use magic to make you be quiet. And Bill, I'm not ignoring you."

"I'm using my manners!" Aaron insisted. "I just don't appreciate being toted around like some sort of child!"

"If you don't want to be treated like a child, then don't act like a child," I replied.

"Why can't I just go and help Frank?" he whined.

"Go help Rosemary," I eventually brushed him off. "And mind your manners."

"Rosemary?" he groaned. "Why her? Why not Frank or Gary?"

"Because Rosemary's not afraid to hit you if you get out of line," I replied. "Either go and help her or stay here and be quiet."

"Well I'm off then!" he quickly waved goodbye before racing off to join Rosemary and the Diggory family.

I shook my head at him as he rushed off, "I give Rosemary half an hour before she gets fed up with him and sends him back."

"We could leave before she sends him back," Harry suggested. "She can send him back to us if she can't find us."

"Good idea," I nodded in agreement. "I think some fresh air will be good for your nerves too. It's too nice of a day outside for you to be cooped up in here anyways."

"Brilliant idea!" Molly agreed. "Harry, why don't you show us the grounds?"

Having Harry show us the grounds really was a good idea. It gave Harry and Molly a chance to chat amongst themselves about the on goings of Hogwarts and it gave Bill and me a bit of space to catch up as well.

"You know, I wasn't expecting you to jump me or anything but you could have at least acknowledged my existence," Bill teasingly pouted as we followed Molly and Harry down towards Black Lake.

"Yes but I know you," I replied, slipping my hand casually into his. "A simple 'hello' to you can easily be translated into 'let's shag' in your mind. I'm supposed to be trying to keep a least a little bit of professionalism going on here."

He shook his head at me, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I haven't seen you in almost six months and when I do finally get to see you then you treat me like some sort of sexual deviant. I'm offended."

"Well perhaps if you didn't have to live all the way in Africa then we wouldn't have to go six months between meetings," I pointed out.

"And if you moved to Africa then we'd be closer," he retorted.

I snorted in reply. This wasn't the first time that he'd made a comment about me moving continents to be closer to him. The first time he'd said it I thought he was joking but he definitely didn't sound like that when he said it now. "Love, I'm not moving to Egypt. As much as I would love to get to see you more, I can't leave England. My mother'd have a stroke if she found out that another one of her daughters were moving so far away from her. When Val left for Romania she practically locked herself in her room and cried for days. I can't ask Joss and Jo to go through that again. Besides I've got St. Mungo's here. We don't have many Healers left in the Creature-Induced Injuries Department. I can't leave now."

"Well you could come visit me," he suggested hopefully.

I nodded, "I will. I'll come and visit the next time I get time off from work."

"Promise?"

I rolled my eyes, "I promise. It's about time I saw these tombs you won't stop raving about."

"You'll love them," he assured me. "I'll make you an addict yet."

"And what exactly is my addiction going to be?" I inquired. Addicted to old tombs? I highly doubted it. I wasn't exactly the Curse-Breaker type.

He smirked at me, "Well since you asked so nicely..." Suddenly he had me pinned against a stone wall, growling carnally into my neck.

I tried to snap myself out of the hormone-induce trance I was being put under. "Bill," I tried to rationalize with him, "We can't do this here. What if someone sees?"

"No one's going to see anything," he assured me, gripping the front of my robes. "Merlin, I've missed you."

"Bill, stop," I weakly commanded, trying to fight off my urge to snog him senseless. "I'm supposed to be working, love."

"I don't care," he informed me simply. "I don't want to have to wait anymore."

"Just a little while longer, love," I urged him. "We can't do this now. My focus has to be on keeping these kids safe. We need to wait just a little while longer. You can have all of my attention afterwards but right now I can't afford to give it to you. Just give me a few more hours, love."

He shook his head, "I can't wait that long." His teeth gripped hungrily at my earlobe, causing me to let out a throaty moan.

_Get a hold of yourself, Emma, _I tried to rationalize. _You're supposed to be working. Don't let him get you off track. _"William, stop," I managed to tell him in a loosely authoritative tone. "I don't go to the pyramids and start trying to shag you while you're working so you can't interrupt my work either."

"You might not try to but I wish you would," he replied, not listening to a word of reason.

I groaned. He was not making this easy. "William Weasley if you don't stop this right now then I swear to Merlin that I'll go home tonight alone."

That seemed to get his attention. He stiffened up, "That's unacceptable."

I took the opportunity to untangle myself from him, "Then behave yourself. I did miss you and I wish I could give you the attention that you're looking for but I'm working right now. I'll give you a proper homecoming welcome later, alright? Right now I've got to keep an eye on Harry and make sure that no one gets hurt. Just give me a few hours, alright?"

He nodded, disappointed , "I guess we should probably catch up with Mum and Harry then."

I gave his hand a supportive squeeze. I understood his disappointment. I really did want to jump him but I had an obligation to my work. Our months of writing letters, with each letter getting more and more suggestive, I'd hoped that our first meeting in months would be a little more passionate or even intimate. "I'll make this up to you," I assured him.

"I'm going to hold you to that, Wilde," he informed me good-naturedly.

He and I found Molly and Harry marveling at Durmastrang's ship at the lake. We joined them as Harry showed off the carriages from Beauxbatons. Molly seemed to notice that Bill and I were holding hands but she didn't ask about it or comment on it. I wondered if she'd even been told that Bill was dating someone. I remembered that Bill had always been notoriously private about the aspects of his private life, even from his family, so I wouldn't be surprised if I'd never been mentioned at all. I wasn't necessarily upset at that prospect. I hadn't told my mum about Bill either but I knew that once I told her about him then she'd want to know if he was "normal" or not and I couldn't handle listening to her rant about how I'd failed her by dating a wizard. Merlin forbid that I ever have to tell her that I'm marrying a wizard. That would probably be enough to make her cry or go into one of her drinking binges. I didn't know if there was even vodka in the world to get her through the wedding of any one of her daughters to a non-Muggle. If she found out I was dating one then she'd just make an extra effort to try to set me up with Muggle blokes she approved of and make me "see the errors of my ways". If I was marrying one then she might start a hunger protest.

After spending the morning on the grounds, we returned to the castle for lunch. I looked forward to seeing Joss and Jo, even if Joss was probably not going to be too happy about me "invading" her space. At least I'd had the good grace to warn them that I was coming. They both probably would have been more irked if I'd showed up out of the blue as a surprise.

Bill and I followed behind Molly and Harry as we walked into the Great Hall, taking a seat at the Gryffindor table. It'd been years since the last time that I was at this table but it hadn't changed much. In fact, there wasn't really anything about Hogwarts (other than the ship from Durmstrang or the carriages from Beauxbatons) that I didn't remember from my time at school. It really hadn't changed much, despite the fact that it'd been nearly six years. I guess that was why Hogwarts was so special to people. People's lives could change and they could grow up but when they went back to castle it was like going back to their childhood. It was just ageless like that.

"Mum? Bill? What are you doing here?" Ron questioned, looking relatively surprised as he joined us at the table. I couldn't blame him. Back when I was at school I would have probably had a heart attack if I saw my mum in the castle.

"We're here to watch Harry in the Third task," Molly replied brightly. "Where are the twins and your sister?"

Ron shrugged, helping himself to a sandwich, "Haven't seen any of them all day. They're probably still taking their exams."

Molly nodded, accepting his theory, "How was your exam?"

"Not bad," Ron admitted indifferently. "It was just History of Magic so it's not like it's an important class anyways."

Molly opened her mouth to reply (probably to argue that every class was important in one way or another) but she was interrupted by the arrival of the twins. "Mum, Bill!" Fred greeted his mother and eldest brother warmly. I think it was Fred after all. Jo had let me in on the secret of how to differentiate the twins (freckles) but I hadn't tried to tell them apart yet. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We've come to see Harry in the Third task," Bill answered for Molly. "Where's your sister?"

"Erm, I think she's over there," George replied hesitantly, pointing to the Hufflepuff table.

I turned my head so fast that I almost got whiplash. Aaron was at the Hufflepuff table with Rosemary and Cedric. If he had anything to do with why Ginny was over there then I was going to have to kill him.

He was. He was watching her with a predatory stare, his lips moving quickly as he probably tried to charm her with flattery. "Excuse me while I go kill my Mediwizard," I announced in a forced calm tone, getting to my feet.

"Not if I kill him first," Bill retorted, jumping to his feet.

I ignored him, taking full responsibility for correcting Aaron's behavior. I determinedly strode towards the Hufflepuff table, fingering my wand in my pocket. "Hastings, what are you doing?" I questioned the whelp with a dangerously composed voice.

"I'm asking this beautiful specimen out for drinks," he replied, looking at Ginny like she was some sort of eight course meal.

"Well you're going to have to wait about three more years for that," I informed him, struggling to remain calm. "She's only fourteen."

"Age is just a number," he quipped, not taking his eyes off of Ginny.

"_Engorgio skullus_," I casted at him in annoyance, too irritated to consider the potential consequences. Red sparks shot out of my wand at the same time that green sparks went flying out of Bill's wand. The mixing of the two spells left Aaron with a swelling forehead and tentacles spreading across his jawline. "Go back to the hospital, Hastings. I don't have time for your bollocks. If I see you in this castle again then those tentacles will be the last thing you need to worry about."

He covered his face with his hands embarrassedly, scurrying out of the Great Hall. Ginny let out of a sigh of relief, "Thanks. I didn't think he was ever going to leave."

"No worries. Your mum wants to see you," I replied.

"What is she doing here? What are both of you doing here?" she questioned.

"The Tournament tonight," I answered, feeling like it was now my turn to answer the question considering that Bill had answered it before. "I'm working the Task and Bill and your mum are here to watch Harry compete."

Ginny followed Bill and I back to the table, where Joss and Jo had already arrived. Jo complimented me for my reaction with Aaron while Joss kept giving Bill and I knowing glances. When I asked her about how she and Fred were doing, however, she seemed to go quiet pretty quickly.

Lunch was over relatively soon and it was just Bill, Molly, Harry and I again. Harry suggested that we take a walk through the castle until dinner. None of us disagreed and soon we were losing track of time in the various corridors, reminiscing about old memories we had of various classrooms and paintings. We barely managed to get back to the Great Hall before the evening feast started.

I didn't feel much like eating at the feast. My stomach was a ball of nerves, anxious about the upcoming Task. I knew that I wasn't one of the Champions competing but I felt like I was terrified for each of them, even the less likable foreign Champions. I had noticed Fleur Delacour looking at Bill with interest but I tried not to dwell too much on it, not wanting to turn into some sort of jealous green-eyed monster.

After the feast, Dumbledore released the Champions to the Quidditch field the last task. The Champions, Rosemary, Frank, Gary, and I followed Ludo Bagman towards the Quidditch field in silence. None of us seemed to want to talk. We were all too anxious for small talk.

When we reached the maze on the field, the Champions began to murmur amongst themselves in bewilderment. The stands were beginning to fill with the Champions' family and classmates while we all looked at the maze in awe.

Hagrid, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick appeared wearing large red stars. McGonagall explained to the Champions that the professors and Hagrid would be patrolling the maze's hedge and that if they needed to be rescued that they needed to send up red sparks.

"This is where I leave you, Harry," I told the fourteen year old boy. "The Mediwizards and I are patrolling with the professors. Good luck and don't be too proud to ask for help if you need to be rescued." I gave his hair a reassuring ruffle before joining the professors and the Mediwizards to break ourselves up for the patrols.

"Miss Wilde," McGonagall greeted me politely.

"Professor," I nodded at her, feeling slightly odd to address her as a professor even after I was out of school for so long. "Rosemary, I want you to stay close to Hagrid, Gary, you'll be following Professor Flitwick, and Frank, please stick with Professor Moody. If you get into the maze and need more help then please send up blue sparks, alright? Remember we're here to assist so make sure to listen to your professor, alright?"

The three Mediwizards nodded at me, following their professors to their respective posts. I followed Professor McGonagall to the left, walking on the outskirts of the hedge maze.

"You're quite good at it, you know," she commented as we rounded the corner. "Leading, I mean. They seem to respect you."

I laughed, "Not all of them but they're a good group. I guess they'd better be to get us through tonight."

She nodded in agreement, "I suppose they called in an expert for a reason. Back when you were at school I never had a problem picturing you as a Healer but I never quite expected you to end up in the Creature-Induced Injuries Department. I thought you a more Spell Damage kind of a woman."

I laughed again, hearing the inaudible noise of Bagman talking to the audience, "They were running out of Healers on that floor. Spell Damage always has an overflow but Creature-Induced Injuries? It's not exactly the same level of glamor. I'm glad I ended up where I did, though. Spells that make people act like they're a teapot? Boring. Saving someone who's been mauled by a Mountain Troll? Much more satisfying."

The first whistle blew. Cedric and Harry had entered the maze. My breath hitched as I thought about what they were coming across. I watched the sky, looking for red sparks. The second whistle blew shortly afterwards. Viktor Krum had entered the maze. There were three Champions in the maze and one left to go.

"I hate this," she admitted with a sigh. "This Tournament was a horrible idea. It was bad enough when it was seventeen year olds competing but now with Potter…" She shook her head, "I wished they'd never brought it back."

I nodded in agreement. Seventeen year olds battling dangerous creatures and fighting through dangerous tasks was bad but a fourteen year old? That was even more unacceptable.

The third whistle blew. All the Champions were now in the maze and it felt like I was just waiting for a disaster to happen now. I watched the sky, expecting to see red sparks any minute.

I thanked the universe for Joss not being a Champion. It was hard enough for me to wait for people I hardly knew to need to be rescued from danger but if it was my sister… I didn't know if I could handle just waiting, knowing that she could be dying in the maze without being able to send for help. The possibility made me nauseous. I liked Harry well enough and Cedric seemed like a decent bloke but I didn't worry for them the same way that I would have worried for Joss. How could Dumbledore, a generally sensible guy, allow this to happen at his school?

The first set of sparks went into the air. I looked at McGonagall. This was ours. She was already ahead of me, her wand out of her pocket. "_Reducto maxima_!" she casted at the maze wall, blasting a large enough for her and I to duck through before the maze began to repair itself. We hunted the maze for a Champion in need of rescue, finding Krum motionless on the grass.

"He looks Stunned," McGonagall commented, prodding him gently with her wand.

"We should get him out of here before he turns into some thing's meal," I pointed out. I whipped out my wand, "_Mobilicorpus_." Krum's motionless body levitated off the ground. I tried to keep my wand steady, guiding him towards the edge of the maze.

"_Reducto maxima_!" McGonagall casted at the wall of the maze, allowing me to levitate Krum through the opening. I lowered Krum to the ground as gently as I could, stepping through the hole in the maze wall before it closed itself again.

"Erm, Miss Wilde?" McGonagall questioned in a hurried tone. "I need your opinion on something."

I stuck my head through the opening, keeping the hole open with my wand, "Yes, professor?"

"What does that look like to you?" she questioned, pointing down the passage of the maze where several large figures seemed to be fighting amongst themselves.

"Acromantulas feeding," I replied breathlessly, my eyes wide with horror. "We need to move now before the venom takes hold!" I ducked back into the maze, throwing red sparks into the sky before she and I began to sprint towards the Acromantula feeding frenzy. Acromantulas were notoriously aggressive but they were always worse at feeding time. One full-sized Acromantula would be hard for McGonagall and I to take down but several? Impossible.

"_Confringo_!" I casted at the Acromantula on the left, knowing that a single Stunning Spell would be ineffective on these large beasts. The Acromantula instantly exploded as if it was hit by a magical bomb. The other Acromantulas turned their attention away from their meal and focus on McGonagall and I racing towards them.

"_Duro_!" I casted at the larger spider charging at us. It immediately stiffened, turning to stone.

Two jets of scarlet light came flying from behind us, stunning one of the large spiders. "_Duro_!" McGonagall casted at the last conscious Acromantula. It turned to stone like the other one and the panic of having full-grown Acromantulas charging at us was over.

"What are you doing in here, Emma? We're supposed to leave the creatures to the Champions to deal with," I heard Gary remind me from behind me.

I ignored her, slowing my pace to a forced calm walk. McGonagall and I approached the Acromantulas' meal, both of us nearly gagged at the sight.

"Oh, Merlin," McGonagall breathed at the sight of Fleur Delacour's barely recognizable corpse. The flesh on her face had been eaten away and her robes were torn and bloodied. The Tournament had claimed its first victim.

I unclasped my Healer's robes, glad that I was wearing Muggle clothes underneath. I spread my robe on top of her, "We have to tell her family."

McGonagall nodded, looking sadly at Fleur's body, "I warned Albus that this was going to happen. I told him not to have this Tournament. He never should have let the Ministry talk him into it."

"Professor, we need to go," I chided her gently. "We need to get her to her family."

She sniffled, nodding in agreement, "Her family deserves to know. Miss Wilde, go with Professor Flitwick and Mr. Byers. I need to tell Dumbledore and the Minister about Miss Delacour. Please excuse me." She blasted another hole into the maze wall, hurrying off to alert Fudge and Dumbledore that Fleur was dead.

"What's going on?" Gary inquired. "Why are you in here? Why did you send up the sparks?"

He picked the wrong time to suddenly be full of questions. He was usually so quiet and reserved. "Fleur's dead, Gary," I replied, placing a nonverbal Mobilicorpus charm on Fleur's body. "The Acromantulas got her."

Professor Flitwick squeaked in reply, "Miss Delacour is dead?"

Didn't I just say that? What did he need? To see it in writing? "Yes. Please help me get out of this maze. We need to get her body to her family."

Flitwick nodded his little head, "Of course! Of course!" He blasted a bigger hole than necessary into the maze wall. "Mind her head."

I levitated Fleur through the hole in the wall, feeling almost surreal about the whole situation. I'd had patients die before. That was just part of the job but I'd never had any one of them die as part of a stupid, glory-seeking competition. She was my youngest death too. I knew that I couldn't have possibly saved her, especially since we only happened to find her body by chance. It didn't matter whether I could have saved her or not. Her death was needless and I didn't know how tell her family anything else.

"Gary, Mr. Krum is stunned down the wall a bit," I tried to maintain my professionalism as I stepped through the maze wall with Fleur floating in front of me. "Please bring him to the judges."

"Of – Of course," he told me, eager to help.

I levitated Fleur's body long the outside edge of the maze, hoping that I was going to wake up from some sort of nightmare. I knew that there was the risk of witnessing death while working the Tournament but I'd hoped that it wouldn't happen. I hadn't prepared myself for what I would have to do in case that one of the Champions did die.

I didn't technically have to do anything, I suppose. I could leave it to Professor McGonagall to the Delacours and explain to them that their daughter was dead but that didn't feel right. I didn't know them and I didn't owe them anything but I didn't want to make McGonagall tell them what happened by herself. Would Dumbledore talk to them because it was his school or would Maxime talk to them because Fleur was her student?

Students in the crowd where beginning to rise from their seats as I levitated Fleur towards the entrance of the maze. Dumbledore, Maxime, Fudge, and McGonagall were waiting for me there. I laid Fleur's body at their feet. "Acromantulas got her," I informed them gruffly.

Maxime looked away, unable to look at the body of her dead student. McGonagall's lips were an even thinner line than usual and Fudge sighed, shaking his head. Dumbledore was the only one who didn't seem to be reacting at all.

"Thank you, Miss Wilde," Dumbledore eventually spoke. "Minerva, please take Olympe to find Miss Delacour's family. Miss Wilde, could you please inform the other patrollers of the situation? Please tell them that only three Champions remain in the maze."

"Two," I corrected. "Krum was taken out as well. He seemed to have been hit with a Stunning Spell."

"I see. Please inform the other patrollers that there are only two Champions left in the maze."

I nodded, "Of course." I left McGonagall and the judges, glad to not be responsible for breaking the news to the Delacours. Telling non-relatives was going to be hard enough.

I began towards the other side of the hedge maze, eyeing the students in the stands. Would the students that were jealous of the Champions still wish that they'd been allowed to compete now that one of them was dead?

I didn't have a chance to inform the other patrollers about Fleur's death or Krum being Stunned. There was a loud thudding noise and a chorus of screams and raised voices stopped me in my tracks. I turned, noticing two figures on the ground and a silver trophy by the entrance of the maze. Cedric and Harry.

Neither one of the figures moved and my Healer instincts took over. It'd been burned into me in Healing training that an unresponsive person took priority over everything else. I sped towards the fallen Champions, hoping that there weren't any more bodies to add to the death toll.

Dumbledore beat me to the figures, flipping the smaller one, which I assumed was Harry, onto his back. "Harry! Harry!"

I dropped to my knees beside the boys, searching for their vital signs. Harry's eyes snapped open and I let out a sigh of relief. At least two of the four Champions survived the task.

Harry let go of the cup, still clenching tightly onto Cedric. "He's back," he whispered hauntingly. "He's back. Voldemort's back."

I looked at Dumbledore in horror. I knew that Harry hadn't been speaking to me. He probably hadn't even realized that I was there. Voldemort was back?

I tried not to let fear consume me, focusing on the two boys in front of me. I tried to check for Cedric's pulse, causing Harry to jerk him protectively away from me. "He's cold, Professor," I informed Dumbledore softly. "He's dead."

Fudge came stumbling onto the scene, looking ghostly white. "What happened? Diggory? Is he – Is Diggory dead? Diggory's dead! My God, Dumbledore, Diggory's dead."

By then the growing crowd was beginning to gasp and shout the news amongst themselves. Cedric Diggory was dead and soon his family was going to have to bury him just like the Delacours were going to have to bury their daughter.

"Miss Wilde, please go help with calming the students," Dumbledore told me in a rushed voice before turning back to Harry. "You can let go of him now, Harry. You can't help him anymore."

I got to my feet, the blood pounding in my ears. Voldemort was back. Voldemort, the wizard responsible for making people live their lives in fear, was back. The wizard responsible for ordering the death of my father was back. How could this have happened?

The students in the crowd were shouting and crying, all of them seemed to be confused about what had happened. I joined Maxime in the stands, trying to keep the students as restrained as we could.

"Everyone please take your seats!" I told the restless students. "Everyone sit down! You need to sit down and remain calm!"

None of the students seemed to be listening. The panic was deafening and none of them wanted to be told to remain in their seats when there were dead bodies on the field below them. I looked at Maxime helplessly, who was also having no success in making any of the students listen to her.

"_Sonorus_," I muttered, waving my wand at my voice box. "Everyone needs to take their seats," I told the crowd, my voice magically amplified so much that it was beginning to hurt my ears. "Stay in your seats until you're told otherwise."

The students had no choice but to obey begrudgingly, taking their seats in the stands, lowering their voices to a panicking hum rather than overwhelming screams. Considering this as satisfying my commitment to Dumbledore, I began to search the stands for my sisters. I wanted to find Bill too but Joss and Jo were my priority.

"_Quietus_," I cast at myself, counteracting my previous voice amplifying spell as I searched the stands for my sisters. They were there somewhere, probably dressed in Gryffindor colors to show their support of Harry, considering that he was from their house. The stands were full of people though and all of them seemed to melt together into one generic face. Where were my sisters?

I noticed the Weasleys almost immediately. Their flaming red hair was easier to spot than Joss' dark or Jo's blond hair. The twins seemed to be a bit fond of my youngest sisters so perhaps they'd be able to point me in their direction. If not that then at least I'd get a chance to see Bill for a few moments before I continued my search for them.

I forced my way through the crowded stands, glad that all of the students had taken their seats. It made maneuvering around them harder but it gave me an easier time finding my way to the Weasleys. When they were sitting then at least they had a smaller chance of being blocked by someone taller standing in front of them.

"Emma!" Molly greeted me in a hurried tone as I arrived at their row. "What's going on? How's Harry? What happened to Cedric? What's going on down there? Where has everyone gone?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "Dumbledore sent me away before I found out anything." That was a lie. I'd been there when Harry told Dumbledore that Voldemort was back but I wasn't about to announce that in a crowded stand of already terrified students. "Have you seen my sisters?"

She shook her head, "They were sitting a few rows behind us but they moved during the panic. Is Harry alright?"

I shook my head back at her, "No. And yes, I suppose. I'm sure he'll tell you himself when Dumbledore's done with him. We should head to the Hospital Wing after we dismiss the students back to the castle. I'm sure that Harry will end up there eventually."

"And Cedric? Is he really dead?" she looked at me with wide eyes, practically begging me to refute the rumors.

I nodded, "I'm afraid so. I'm sure that Harry will be able to tell you more than I can."

"And the other body? You brought another body out of the maze," she pressed for more information, her children and Hermione listening eagerly to our conversation.

"Fleur Delacour was killed by some Acromantulas," I hesitantly informed her. "Krum was also removed from the maze. He seemed to have been Stunned. Harry might be able to explain better than I can. I only know what I saw and that wasn't much."

She shook her head, "I said that this Tournament was a bad idea. Two dead? They never should have brought it back!"

I nodded in quiet agreement. If what Harry said was true and Voldemort was back then Cedric's death likely had nothing to do with the task. I didn't understand what'd happened in the maze but I doubted that Voldemort popped in for a little visit with Harry after Cedric died at the hands of one of the task's obstacles.

"Are you alright?" Bill questioned, peering at me with concern.

I nodded, "I'm fine." It was a lie, obviously. There was no way that I could be fine. I'd just learned that Voldemort was back and as far as I was concerned I was never going to be fine again.

"What aren't you telling me?" he inquired almost suspiciously.

I shook my head, "Not here, not now."

Hagrid and Professor Flitwick finally began to instruct the students to return to their Common Rooms and await further instruction. I hoped that Joss and Jo listened and went straight to Gryffindor Tower.

"Ginny, George, Fred, go back to Gryffindor Tower," Molly spoke calmly. "That's not up for discussion either. Go."

The twins and Ginny begrudgingly accepted their mother's orders, slinking off towards the Tower. I expected the twins to agree that they were of age and they could do as they please but they didn't. They must have known that Molly was not someone to be reckoned with at that moment.

"Emma!" Rosemary yelled at me from the field. "Emma, we have to go back to the hospital! Fudge ordered us back!"

I scoffed. I really didn't care if the bloke was the Minister or not. I didn't like being ordered around by someone who wasn't my boss. I didn't really like being ordered around by my actual boss but I tended to endured it to keep my job.

I turned to Bill, "I have to go. Keep me updated with what happens, alright?"

"Do you have to?" he questioned. "Do you really have to go now?"

I nodded, "You need to get to the Hospital Wing. Harry should be there soon and it might do him some good to see some friendly faces."

He threw his arms around me before I had a chance to join my Mediwizards. He protectively held me to him, even though he had no idea of the danger that was really going on. "What aren't you telling me?" he inquired softly. "What's happening?"

"Voldemort's back." It barely came out as a whisper.

He pulled away from me, looking at me with wild disbelief. I took the opportunity to detach myself, leaving to join my Mediwizards on the field. And to think, earlier that day my biggest problem was trying to get Aaron to behave himself. Now the greatest enemy of the Wizarding World was back from the presumed dead and suddenly the issue of Aaron's vulgar mouth was looking ideal in comparison.


	27. And Washed It Away: Jo

And Washed It Away: Jo

_Love is a Battlefield _Chapter 27

_"Remember Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delacour."_

I really can't hack this anymore.

As soon as dessert had shown up at the Leaving Feast and it was therefore socially acceptable to leave, I dashed out of the Great Hall. I could feel the tears coming, my vision going blurry and blotchy. My breath came in hiccups as I ran to Gryffindor Tower, stumbling over stairs and tripping over my own feet in my haste.

Merlin, why, why, why, why, why, _why?_

Voldemort was back. Cedric, the Great Champion, the good person, god of my friends' idolatry, was dead. So was Fleur, someone I had never known and only mocked, but it seemed a shame to lose such beauty in any case. Had anything gone right this year? Anything at all?

As I climbed through the Portrait Hole, I knew some things had. Fred and Joss were going steady (the Twins's supply of rubbers needed restocking every Hogsmeade trip), and beneath her usual death threats you could see Joss was becoming more and more attached to the Weasley's presence. She liked having him around to banter with, someone who wasn't a Seventh Year or her little sister. NEWTs had taken a lot out of her, but Fred was pretty attentive, knowing when to indulge her lazy request to fetch her quill and when to chuck a book at her head. Their dynamic was down, and Joss alternatively being thwarted and having a man-slave was highly entertaining.

Harry being alive was a plus too. At least no one in my House had died.

The thought started a fresh wave of tears and I wandlessly started a riot of the debris left in the Common Room. Shredded papers and quills threw themselves into the fire and a _Witch Weekly_ magazine started shredding itself and sticking its torn pages on the wall. I grabbed my wand from my pocket and made real canaries appear.

Knowing I was being a weak, pouty twat, I let myself cry and curl into one of the couches. Merlin, I had this magic and no one, not even death, could take it away. It was the only thing that could never be taken away. I was of age now.

The canaries twittered about, hopping on my head and chirping in my ear, trying to get me to come out and play.

I needed to stop crying. I was being silly. It was just death, an ending. I was a Gryffindor. I thought about how I had been delighted when McGonagall had taught us how to make the canaries appear and the Twins and I had shared a lot of inside jokes and looks over the next few weeks. I felt my mouth quirk into a watery smile.

"There's a smile," a Weasley twin said, his voice somewhere above me.

My head snapped up and before I could think, I'd punched him in the face.

"Oi!" he shouted, reeling backwards. "What the bloody hell, Jo?!"

"That's what you get from sneaking up on me, you stupid pile of dragon dung!" I screamed back. "You do it all the time and I hate it!"

"I do not do it all the time," George said, rubbing his cheek, staring at me like I had grown claws. "That was the first time!"

"No, it wasn't," I yelled, standing up to make myself seem more important. Being short was a stupid disadvantage. "There was the bathroom and the ball and, and, and-" I could feel the tears coming, not even knowing their reason, but unable to stop. "You're a stupid son of a bitch, George Weasley! Now come here so I can fix your fucking face!"

"Don't insult my mum," he muttered, coming to stand next to me so I could spell away his impending bruise.

"Then don't surprise me," I huffed, swallowing away the lump in my throat. I wiped my nose and said the incantation. George rubbed his face once more. "I thought Joss would tell you to leave me be."

"She did and I ignored her. Since when do I listen to your sister?"

"Since you were afraid she's rip your testicles."

"Ah. I'd forgotten."

We stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. The canaries had fluttered away during the screaming match and now resettled on my shoulders and head. I didn't care if it looked ridiculous because it was comforting. George surveyed the room.

"Is there a reason you're destroying the Common Room?"

"Because I fucking can." Swearing was somehow making me feel better. "Want to duel?"

"No. I'm afraid you would hurt me. Or if I beat you then Joss would go Hit Wizard on me."

"You know she hasn't been trained yet. She has to get her NEWTs back."

"Speaking of fucks, fuck NEWTs."

I groaned and I flopped back down onto the couch. George sat next to me, putting arm around my shoulders, which dislodged some canaries. They tweeted angrily and took revenge by sitting on both of us. I leaned my head against him. "I seriously don't want to do those next year."

"I'm sorry, but this day and this conversation require firewhiskey. Now where the hell did Fred hide it?"

He silently summoned the bottle and transfigured two shot glasses out of the air. "Fuck our lives," I said. "Why do we even need NEWTs? I don't even know what I want to do."

"Then don't take them," George replied mildly, pouring us both a glass. "Come on, take a shot."

We clinched our glasses together and downed our drinks. I liked the burn of alcohol, the way it tingled all the way down. I hadn't ever gotten drunk and I knew from firsthand experience how to become an alcoholic. But this whiskey stuff was good and everything in moderation right? It's not like Emma or Val were teetotalers. Val could probably drink half of Scandinavia under the table.

Feeling much warmer and calmer, I snuggled into George. "What were you saying about NEWTs?" I asked.

"Seventh year is optional, you know. You could just skive off the whole year. Maybe not even attend."

"You have obviously not met my mother or my older sisters. They would murder me in more ways than one. Or in the case of Mum, I would murder myself."

"Is she really that bad?"

"She's worse."

"Fred and I are thinking of not coming back next year."

I proceeded to summon all the breadcrumbs, used gum, candy wrappers, boxes, and dust mites in the room, make them form a ball, and then throw it all in the fire in order to show what I thought of this plan. For extra measure, I grabbed the front of George's shirt and said, "No."

"Could you please not turn into Joss here and let me explain."

"No."

"It's that you don't need NEWTs to start a joke shop and-"

"No."

He was shifting out from under me, trying to sit up. "Jo, come on."

I wandlessly created a loud banging noise to distract him and get the canaries away as I twisted around. I pushed down and sideways to force George against the couch seat cushions and moved to straddle his waist. I don't usually manhandle my friends, but George and I had kept coming up with excuses to touch each other after the time in the bathroom. We didn't discuss it or mention it and the rumor mill had decided we were dating. But we weren't. We were just friends. We hadn't kissed. We weren't always together. The weird electricity that bonded us existed, coalescing around George as opposed to the whole group, and I hung out with the Twins and Lee more, but...we weren't dating. What was the term? Squishes? Plus, I insulted him a lot and semi-used him as an emotional punching bag. Like that particular moment.

"You have the worst sense of timing, George. I was crying over people dying and you come and say you're leaving."

"Could you please not kill me? Please?"

My hand loosened in his shirt. What was I even doing? I climbed off. I turned away from him and went to right the room, waving my wand to take down the torn up _Witch Weekly_ and stick the pieces back together. I gave a big sigh, trying to collect myself. I left the canaries. They twittered at us both from the furniture.

"I'm sorry, George. I know your joke shop is important to you and if you think it's best to do that instead of Hogwarts next year then that is entirely up to you and your brother."

I could hear him shrug.

"We haven't decided yet."

I expected him to move or even myself to move, but neither of us did it. Magnets. Ions. Stuck together. I sighed again. "Okay."

"Come back here and sit with me."

I obediently went to sit with him, both of us adopting our former position. After a moment, George poured us another drink. We silently took it and then settled back, letting the alcohol do its work. Make everything seem easier, farther away. George put his cheek on my head. The canaries settled on us again.

We were quiet for a long time until George asked, "What are you going to do this summer?"

"Wish I was here."

"Really? That could probably be arranged."

"Mum would die from swallowing a spoon or something stupid. But thank you for offering."

"Are you going to study?"

"Hell no. Are _you_ going to study?"

"We'll work on our products. You could come by and test the Canary Creams again."

"Remember the testicles."

"Can you please stop saying that? It's weird."

"Sorry."

"Where's Joss living?"

"I don't know. She says she's found somewhere, but I don't really believe her. She'll probably be at your place more than Mum's, that's for sure."

"Voldemort's back."

"I know."

"Does it scare you?"

"Honestly, yes."

"But we have Dumbledore. Why does it scare us if we have Dumbledore?"

"Having anyone out there trying to destroy everything you love is scary."

"Mum had everything she loved destroyed. I don't want that to happen to me."

"No one wants it to happen to them."

We took another shot. I banished the firewhiskey back to its hiding place so we wouldn't be tempted to drink more.

"They say being on the good side sucks because good people have everything to lose."

"Well...maybe that's why Voldemort exists. He has nothing."

"Look at you, being all wise. Who-da thought?"

"I have a brain, thank you very much, Josephine."

"I like your brain."

"Aaaaanndddd...now you've had too much whiskey."

"Take me to bed."

"I'm going to take that to mean put you in the bed and then leave because you've had too much firewhiskey for this conversation."

"First we need firewhiskey and then we have too much fire-whiskey. Make up your mind, Weasels."

George stood and with a twist of his wand I was floating above the Common Room floor. I giggled as he magically prodded me towards the staircase, joining me in the air when we reached the landing so he could get into the girl's dormitory. The canaries were following us, dashing back and forth and generally making a racket.

George touched down when we made it to my door, opened it, and made me float through to land on my bed. "That was lovely," I said. "I should ask you to bed more often."

"...I'm saving all the implications of that sentence away for later examination. So many potential innuendos."

"You wouldn't dare," I taunted as I rucked up my uniform sweater and tossed it at his face. He blushed and bee-lined for the door. "Oh and George," I called.

He turned his still red face back towards me, hand around on the door handle. "Yes, my bird?"  
"Thank you."

He smiled and closed the door behind him. The click of the lock seemed to echo in the room as I flopped backwards on the bed. The canaries chirped at me and with a wave of my wand they disappeared.


	28. The InBetween: Joss

**A/N Chapter 28 **

So I may have lied, just a tiny bit, when I told Jo I found a place. _Technically_, I found a place. It was more like I told a teeny-tiny lie. A lie so small I could barely even register its existence, in fact. Because…I had a place. Just not an actual…flat or anything. But a room at the Leaky Cauldron counts as a place.

Being fresh out of school and all, I didn't have a lot of money. Dumbledore wasn't handing out money bags as good-bye presents, and even if he did, I think this year would've been the year he'd be a little too preoccupied to remember them. Honestly, I was just glad to get the hell out of there.

Two students killed, almost right in front of us, one of them murdered. Some people didn't believe Dumbledore, I knew that, but Dumbledore had never steered me wrong before, so why wouldn't I believe him? Voldemort was back, Harry fought him and Cedric died as an innocent bystander. It was all very confusing and chaotic and a little terrifying.

There was one thing I knew, though. I had one more reason to become a Hit Wizard. If Voldemort was back, it wouldn't be long before more people started dying, going missing and a war would break out, because like hell everyone would just sit back and take it. If Voldemort could be beat by a single baby, there was a pretty decent chance he could be beat again by a teenager with a whole army behind him.

I grabbed my room key from the front desk and headed up the stairs, lone over-stuffed bag slung over my shoulders, and searched for my room. I had to go up two more flights of stairs and down three more hallways before I found it, a room with a creaky door and a screaming neighbor.

Kicking the door shut behind me a dropped the bag with a thud and looked around the room. It was small: a bedroom with a connecting bathroom that was even smaller. The bed was queen size, fresh coverings on it. The floorboards were creaky as well, and a little dusty, and there was a single window overlooking the streets below. So I was staying at the Leaky Cauldron for a while. It wasn't bad for a new graduate awaiting her job. Besides, Hit Wizard jobs come with their own residence on hiring, and a bed on call at St. Mungo's, which Emma wasn't doing any cartwheels over, but regardless, the job came with perks.

There was already an owl outside the window, letter at the ready. It looked like it had stumbled into the window, which was forced open a little, and I regarded Errol quietly. I vaguely wondered if birds could get concussions.

_Dearest Darling, _

_ I knew you'd be staying at the Cauldron. Call it a lucky guess. I'm writing you safely from my Mum's at the Burrow. You should stop by this summer holiday. Stop by a lot. Hell, just bring a bag over; Mum'll do your laundry. _

_ Would I be an overbearing boyfriend if I said I didn't like you staying by yourself? Not that I want you to find another bloke to shack up with- I just- with everything going on, you know? Mum and Dad are a bit tense, and Mum is hovering a slight, but it's tolerable, under the circumstances, innit? I'd just feel better if you weren't by yourself is all. _

_ I'm trusting you can take care of yourself though, being a future Hit Wizard and well – you're Joss Wilde. So since you're most likely still breathing, be a dear and write back, quick as a whip, yeah? Just to reassure me so I don't do something barking like panic and storm your room with a wand at the ready and you blow my head off. It'd be much appreciated. _

_ Ever yours, _

_ Fred Weasley _

I rolled my eyes and tossed the note onto the bed. I ran a hand through my hair and started to unpack.

-0-

I couldn't help feeling I was being almost cruel, leaving Jo alone with Mum. I'd only been gone a few days but I enjoyed having independence, of not having to fight mum tooth and nail on everything all the time. Jo could handle herself.

I took comfort in the fact that I'd invite her over in a day or so to my room, once I had everything sorted. I was a little anxious, waiting for my results, so I spent most of my time hanging around Diagon Alley, looking at all the shops and all the things I didn't have money to buy. Actually, it was a bit depressing.

"He's gotta be mad, ain't he?"

"He don't seem mental to me."

"When's the last time you seen ol' Dumbledore?"

"Well, not for quite some time…"

"Exactly. Man's gone barking since then, mate."

I turned my head slightly, aiming my ear better at the table next to me as I read some Witch Weekly. I was at some dingy little tea shop, minding my own business, and here these two old silver-heads come, sitting the next table over, crowing over Dumbledore.

"Who can be sane and think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned? He's dead, ain't he!"

"They never found a body…"

"Right, because he was defeated by a mere babe."

"That's what they say."

"They who? They be Dumbledore! See, he ain't so reliable."

I rolled my eyes but continued listening in between paragraphs about the latest make-up techniques. I knew some people wouldn't have enough brain cells to rub together to know Dumbledore was right.

"Boo."

I snapped my head up and blinked, _so not even startled_, and saw Fred standing above me. I tilted my head back and he towered over me, giving a quick kiss, and I watched him take the empty seat next to me.

"You have two more freckles."

"Hello to you too, darling. I spent some time in the sun, playing Quidditch with the lads."

I nodded.

"Where are they?"

"George and Lee are shopping around, you know. Your sister here?"

"Jo? No, she's back home, I'm assuming. Why?"

Fred shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he hooked his legs over my lap.

"No reason then."

I eyed him and then sighed. I didn't even want to know the implications of any of them wanting to know where Jo was. I had a headache, was a little irritated already, and didn't have the emotional stability to deal with it right now.

"You're a little on edge, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"You're not…you're not worried about anything happening, are you?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

I looked at him. What was he even talking about?

"Anything happening…_no_- I'm anxious about my N.E.W.T.s, Freds."

His shoulders slumped and an easy smile graced his face. He was right, he had obviously been in the sun. He was slightly less death-white-pale than usual.

"Darling, relax. You'll get the highest score possible, become a world famous Hit Wizard and everyone will tremble in fear of you."

I laughed and shoved his legs off me, watching him shoot forward.

"Shut up, you twat. I just want them sooner rather than later. Wait until you have to take them."

"That's the thing I wanted to talk to you about. I was thinking George and I wouldn't finish the year."

I flipped the page in my magazine.

"What would you be doing instead? I'm not dating a bum."

"You would leave me if I had no life goals?"

"Without a doubt."

"That hurts. I thought we were stronger than that."

"You've been wrong before. You'll get over it."

"Because I know you so well, I know that insults are your terms of affection, so I love you too, Joss. But I actually am not intending on being a bum-_and apparently a single bum at that_- so I'll inform you that the twin and I are planning on owning a Joke Shop, for which a complete education is not necessary."

"Like Zonko's?"

"Hopefully better."

I paused for a moment and scanned an article about no-slip-grips for wands before turning to look at him.

"Have you thought it all out?"

"Yes. We're extremely thorough, the twin and I."

"Well, as long as you know what you're doing, I think it's a wicked idea, Freds."

"Really? No lecture about how education is important?"

"The only reason I stayed until graduation was because I needed it for my career. Your career doesn't require it, so it's a different situation. Besides, I don't lecture; I'm not Emma. If you want a lecture on education, go see her. I recommend her; she gives me at least three a year, she's quite good at it."

"You're such a darling, darling."

"Mhm. I'm thirsty."

"Two tall glasses of Firewhiskey comin' up." He announced, leaving the table.

I watched him enter a shop and bit my lip. Fred and I hadn't been together all that long, but I certainly liked him. I'd never admit that in actual words, he might get the idea he had some sort of power in the relationship and I couldn't have that_, his head is big enough_, but I couldn't help but wonder… I knew I liked him, that I was sure about. But I also knew that somewhere down the road, I'd have to admit I actually loved the guy. And I had no idea how I'd be able to tell, or even if I'd be able to tell him when I knew. Would I be a bad girlfriend if I never admitted I loved him?


	29. The Order of the Phoenix: Val

**A/N: Val's POV**

We'd heard about the death of Cedric Diggory, and that something big was going on in regards to the Death Eaters, but it was difficult to get the real story. What I hadn't expected was for Albus Dumbledore himself to visit Charlie and me at Charlie's flat at the beginning of the summer.

He looked odd, sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in hand... Out of place. I sat beside Charlie and was surprised when he actually wrapped an arm around my waist, probably more out of habit than anything else. It would have felt natural had the elderly man sitting across from us been anyone else. Dumbledore, however, didn't seem to notice.

"I'm sure you've heard bits and pieces of what's been going on in England," he said slowly. "After all, you each had family present at the event in question."

"Yes," I said slowly. "Cedric Diggory's dead. And judging by the fact that my bosses told me not to do anything that might side with you, whatever that means, I'm guessing there's a lot more going on than I've been informed of. For example, I have a feeling that you could tell me some disconcerting things about Bertha Jorkins and why Tonks is shaken up about her retired mentor, Moody."

"Bertha Jorkins is dead," Dumbledore said calmly, "in much the same way as Cedric Diggory. Both were murdered by Lord Voldemort."

I could feel my stomach churning. I was probably shaking, and Charlie held me just a bit tighter.

"Alastor Moody, on the other hand," he continued as though discussing writing style, "was locked in his own trunk for months by a Death Eater whose father broke him out of Azkaban as a favor to his dying wife. The intent was to kill Harry Potter after bringing Voldemort back to his body. Thankfully, the second intent failed."

"So Cedric Diggory wasn't the target," Charlie said slowly. "He was just there."

"Yes, tragically," Dumbledore said, as though we were talking about someone dropping the last roll. I wasn't feeling the tragedy in his voice.

"So what you're really saying," I said softly, "is that You-Know-Who is back."

"Voldemort, Valerie," Dumbledore conceded with a nod. "Yes, he's very much back. The other thing you'll probably notice is that the _Prophet_ is very much against anyone telling the truth about it at the moment, because Cornelius Fudge doesn't want to face the truth. He's frightened."

"So am I."

I hadn't realized I'd said it out loud until Charlie just dropped all propriety and wrapped both of his strong, caring arms around me and Professor Dumbledore looked at me with those sad blue eyes and I just felt overwhelmed by pity. I didn't want to be overwhelmed by pity, because the last time I'd felt that way had been my father's funeral, and my father was taken from me fighting You-Know-Who. It was starting again, and Emma would fight, and Joss, and probably Jo when she had her N.E.W.T.s under her belt.

And all I wanted to do was run into the other room and cry in a little ball, praying to anyone that might be listening that nothing would happen. My mother wouldn't be able to take it, I wouldn't be able to...

I realized in that moment, another horrifying fact. I was my mother's daughter.

No, I wasn't boozing it up, looking at photos of myself at sixteen and wondering where the years had gone, dating anyone who would even look at me twice, but that could be me in another twenty years. I'd given up everything for love, just like my mother had. I'd shaped my life by the life of the man I wanted, just like my mother. I couldn't handle loss, just like my mother.

Suddenly the fear I'd been feeling was tenfold. What if Charlie died? What if one of my sisters died? What if they all died, leaving me to fend for myself, alone? Because it wasn't just them, it would be Tonks and the rest of the Weasleys and probably everyone I'd ever cared about at all. I would lose everyone.

"I'm sure you didn't just come here to give us news, Professor," Charlie said softly, smoothing my hair in his gentle way. "There's something else."

"I'm restarting the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said in that calm voice, and I wanted to cry. I wanted to claw out his superior blue eyes. I wanted to shake Charlie, who looked so determined, and remind him how my father died, remind him that I couldn't exist without him. Really, what would I do with myself if something happened to Charlie? It would be the end of me. But I just sat there, silently hoping it wouldn't come to any of those things.

"Where do I sign up?" Charlie said firmly, and I sighed.

Of course he was going to want to join. He was like that, wanting to do the right thing, all the time. It was the Gryffindor in him, and really just about everybody else I knew. Weasleys were Gryffindors. Wildes were Gryffindors, except for me. It was amazing we weren't all married after all. Plenty of Weasley boys to go around, after all, even if you didn't count Percy. Because who would count Percy?

Dumbledore smiled.

"I think it's something you should both consider together," he said kindly, "without me sitting here. Should you choose to help the cause, I'm leaving a piece of parchment on the table. Whether you decide to follow the instructions or not, I ask that you destroy it thoroughly after reading, for security's sake. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course," Charlie assured him.

"Then I must take my leave," Dumbledore said, standing up. We stood to see him out and he paused at the door, looking right in my eyes.

"Valerie, it won't be like last time," he assured me. "We have the leg up. We know, which is exactly what he didn't count on. And we have Harry."

"We have Harry," I agreed.

When we were alone, Charlie watched me for a moment as I walked across the room to the table and just stared down at the parchment that had been left for us.

"I wonder what it is," I said.

"Do you want to do it?" Charlie whispered.

"It could be anything, really," I reasoned, ignoring the question. I doubt very much that there's too much going on over here, but there are the vampires, I suppose, and we're probably the closest they've got to the werewolves in the Black Forest, too."

"Valley..."

"I mean, I'm not Dark Creature expert, but you-"

"Valerie May Wilde," he said in a low, dangerous voice, "you are going to sit down and you are going to talk to me like a reasonable person."

With a sigh, I sat down as commanded and I looked up at him, but instantly regretted doing so. I felt strangely like I was being disciplined.

"What?" I sighed.

"Do you want to join the Order?"

"I - I don't know, Charlie. I mean, no, I don't particularly want to. But it's not all up to me. I know you really want to and I know my sisters want to and... Charlie what if you die?"

"I'm not going to die," Charlie said firmly, kneeling in front of me and placing his hands on my lap. "I'm not going to die, I'm going to be fine, and I'm going to make sure that you are the safest, happiest girl in the world because you deserve it. All right? If my life is in danger and you want me to pull out, I'll do it in a heartbeat. But what do you want to do, Valley? Do you want to join, or do you just want to support me?"

I looked at him, biting my lip. I knew that Dumbledore wasn't going to have him just work out of our little town. He was abroad. He was able to stretch out networks on the continent, and what if he had to leave me? What if Dumbledore was asking him to do something in a different part of the country, or Germany, or... or...

"I'll join," I said firmly, although I felt shaky even as the words came out of my mouth, "but I don't want to be separated from you. If you leave the country for something, I'm going with you. I won't be left alone."

"Of course," Charlie promised, kissing my hands. "Shall we look, then?"

I nodded and Charlie picked up the parchment, gently unrolling it to find out what we were being asked to do.

Three days later, we were in Tallinn. Notorious for thieves, the new city of Tallinn actually had signs to warn against theft, showing a shady man taking the purse from a helpless woman.

As if that was the only thing you had to watch out for.

When Charlie had taken me to Tallinn on a date, it had been nothing like our mission. We'd gone out only during the day, hit a shopping mall briefly, and then spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through old Tallinn, admiring the sites and taking copious photographs. We were back at his flat for dinner before it'd even started getting a bit dark. On our mission, however, we had to go out at night, go to a wizarding bar, and whisper into the ears of people, talk up the bartender, and make sure everyone in that bar knew the truth of the matter: Voldemort had returned in England.

Not too many people cared. England was awfully far away. But after a couple of hours of us stirring the dusts of memory, people started to recall how even the ripples of the disaster that plagued England had caused quite a lot of trouble all the way to the Pacific Ocean, and certainly reaching the Baltics. People were more willing to listen when we reminded them of the Dark Creatures in their own back yard.

Charlie had to threaten a rather large-looking man who tried to convince me to go home with him. I couldn't place the accent, but Charlie said he was Bulgarian.

"Probably in town on business," Charlie snarled. "Disgusting."

"Yes," I conceded, allowing Charlie to lead me back to the hotel we were to stay in overnight, in case one of Dumbledore's contacts was able to send recruits to us. It was a nice place, thankfully, in a safer part of town, but Charlie clutched me close to him as though any second someone would try to mug him and steal him from me.

Of course, even in the nicest parts of Tallinn, that was always a possibility, and I didn't mind being a bit closer to him.

When we got up to the room, Charlie pulled off his jacket and tossed it aside.

"I think we made some progress, don't you?" he said. "It was certainly what Dumbledore asked us to do, at any rate and nobody attacked us. Most people were willing to listen. When do you think he'll send us off again?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "I'm tired, Charlie. It's time for a shower and bed."

He didn't say anything, just looked at me, but I could tell that his breathing was more labored, and he wasn't even trying to hide his obvious erection.

"Do you think it might be okay if... I don't know, maybe to save water or something we could maybe... shower together?"

I blinked. That was sure the opposite of taking things slowly. On the other hand, he looked so adorably eager and I rather wanted to... It wasn't as though he'd not seen me naked before, but I'd actually not seen him without boxers on. We'd never gotten to that point.

To tell the truth, I'd seen more of him than I'd seen of anyone else. And I very much liked what I saw...

"I guess that's fine," I said as casually as I could. "For the environment. We could... wash each other's hair or-"

It was a rather god thing I didn't have to come up with an alternative action because Charlie scooped me up before I could even think another syllable and carried me straight into the bathroom, peeling my clothes off me without another word. I could see the hunger in his eyes and I shivered, not from the cold of the bathroom, but the heat in his gaze as he saw for probably the fifth or six time my body being bared to him.

When I was standing before him completely unclothed, I distracted myself from his hungry gaze by carefully peeling his shirt off him, slowly undoing his jeans, letting him peel off his socks, and then staring at his tented boxers, unsure of what to do. This was new territory. Did I remove them, or did he?

Apparently I didn't have to worry about it because Charlie was already pulling them off before I had a chance to come to any sort of conclusion as to what to do. I was, however, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe or think when I saw the size of him for the first time.

I was vaguely aware of licking my lips a bit before Charlie pushed me up against the wall of the yet-to-be-turned-on shower. It was about the only thing in the room that wasn't turned on, it seemed, but that thought vanished into the delicious kiss Charlie pressed to my lips, followed by what felt like dozens more, clouding what little bit of rational thought I had left. The shower was a bad idea, I knew it from the moment he'd said it, somewhere in my heart, but it felt so good and we hadn't even started the water yet.

"Charlie," I managed to whine as he raked his teeth down the valley between my breasts, "showers usually have water."

He moaned disappointedly, turning to shield me from the shower jet until he was certain that the temperature wasn't too hot or cold. Then he put me in front of him, running his hands along me as the water cascaded down over our bodies. Turning away from the jet, I faced him, wrapping my arms around his neck and watching the water hit his red hair, run down his face, down his chest, down to his... Mmmm...

Charlie took the body wash from the shelf and poured a bit on his hands, lathering it, running the suds all over my body, washing every part of me he could reach. When his hand ran quickly across the heat between my thighs I bit my lip, holding in the shockingly good feeling it had brought. When I was thoroughly rinsed, I did the same, getting some body wash, lathering it, and washing every part of his body with it, placing a stray kiss on his arm, chest, and shoulder as I worked.

What I wasn't sure about, though, was _it_. Was I supposed to wash it? Wouldn't touching it make it even more strained? I already felt guilty enough when he had a hard-on and I had to be the one to stop everything. Wouldn't this make me feel ten times guiltier, actually actively aggravating the situation and then pulling back?

"You can touch me, you know," Charlie said with a low chuckle. "It's not going to make me full of insatiable lust. Well, no more than usual, anyway."

I could feel the blush on my cheeks as I summoned all my courage and held it in my hands. It was smooth, velvety almost, but also firm and hard, exactly as I expected it to be. He gave an enticing sort of hiss when I touched it, and as I ran my fingers along it, both watching and exploring the new territory, Charlie began making all sorts of unfamiliar but incredibly sexy sounds.

"Oh, Val," he gasped, "that feels so good."

"What?" I asked, running my thumb along the head as I'd just done. "That?"

He gave a long, low groan.

"Valley, I think I can't hold on much longer."

I was very, very confused. Hold on to what? He was gripping the shelf, but surely that wasn't suddenly getting slipperier?

Then I remembered some of the things Tonks had said about her exploits with boys and I realized that he was about to climax. Terrified of what I'd done, not moving slow like we'd promised, I froze on the spot, staring at his red face, wondering what to do.

"Don't stop," he begged, and the insistence in his voice was something I was so not used to from him that my hand continued its actions before I had a chance to think it through.

Seconds later, Charlie climaxed.

He rinsed off my hands, kissed me quite thoroughly, in what I could only take as thanks, and sighed, "Val, that was incredible," as he got some shampoo ready to wash my hair. "Probably didn't hurt that we've been building up the tension for months," he added with a grin, lathering my hair.

"So it was okay?" I said softly, not really sure what else to say.

"Val, darling," he sighed, rinsing my hair and getting my vanilla conditioner ready, "it was perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Even though I wasn't entirely sure what I'd done, I got both the sense that I'd done it well and the distinct impression that he wanted me to do it again sometime.

We finished washing each other's hair and then we got out of the shower, drying each other off, and crawling into bed together, his strong arms wrapping around me tenderly.

"I love you," he whispered.

He must have been aware, as I was, that we'd crossed a line in our definition of 'slow'. I was trying not to think of it, though.

"I think we've made some good contacts," I whispered. "If things continue without word otherwise from the Order, remember, we're coming back in August and-"

"Valley," Charlie whispered, "I love you. I want you to be my girl. I want people to know now that we're together. Is that all right?"

It hadn't been what I'd expected him to say, but I felt a rush of adoration for him and I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing his cheek softly.

"Yes," I said, unable to hide my grin or the giddiness in my voice. "I think it's time."


	30. Survival of the Careful: Emma

It was the first meeting of the newly reconvened Order of the Phoenix and I was terrified. I felt a lot like a child going to a meeting for grownups and trying not to look like an ignorant tot. Several attendees were part of the 1st Order. There was Dumbledore, Mad-Eye Moody, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, and that was only naming a few. There was an equal amount of newcomers to the Order but most of them were older than ten when the last war was over.

I felt almost like an impostor walking into that meeting. What did I know about fighting Death Eaters? I was a Healer. I could Heal Doxy venom or dragon burns, or even treat Dragon Pox or cure simple poisons but fight a covert war with Death Eaters? I couldn't help but feel like I was in over my head. So many of the members had fought in the last war or they were Aurors or even Bill, who was used to the field experience that came with Curse Breaking. I was a Healer. I was determined to give the Order everything that I had but I wasn't sure if it was enough.

There were more people at the meeting than I expected. There were seventeen wizards, including me. I'd met ten of them. The other seven I'd heard of to some extent. I'd heard of Kingsley Shacklebolt from Tonks, who worked with him as an Auror. I'd never met Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle or Emmeline Vance but I remember hearing about them from my father when he was in the Order with them during the first time. I'd never met Sirius Black, whose parents' house had become the Order's Headquarters, but everyone in the Wizarding World (and the Muggle world) had heard of him. Hestia Jones had apparently been a Seventh Year at Hogwarts when I graduated but I'd never met her.

It was a bit of an understatement to say that I was a ball of nerves. I had to keep reminding myself that Dumbledore himself invited me to join the Order. He wouldn't have asked me to join if he didn't have any use for me. And I wasn't alone at the meeting. Joss had joined the Order as well, despite my protesting, and there were three Weasleys there. Bill was going to be there. That was probably the only good thing that came out of the whole situation. Bill came home to England. He and I were finally going to be on the same continent for once.

The reason why he moved back home wasn't exactly ideal but he was home. I could now snog him when I wanted to. I could listen to his voice rather than read his handwriting. I could see him almost whenever I wanted to. I was ecstatic to have him in my reach. I just wish he was as excited to be home.

I knew that his unhappiness didn't have anything to do with me. He missed his tombs. He hated having a desk job at Gringotts. He missed the excitement and the adventure that came with being a Curse-Breaker. There just weren't any Curse-Breaker positions in England and he wanted to be here now that a war was brewing. I couldn't blame him for that. I wouldn't have been able to be in a different country, let alone continent, while my family was in the middle of a war.

I couldn't believe I was here. Not just at an Order meeting but an Order meeting at Sirius Black's parents' house. Dumbledore had explained to all the members how Sirius had been set up for the betrayal of the Potters and the murder of the all those Muggles by Peter Pettigrew. From what I remembered my father saying about Sirius, it made sense. He'd always said that Sirius was almost painfully loyal to a fault and how James Potter was his best mate. If Dad was right about his character then it'd make sense that he was set up.

All the present Order members were ushered into the dining room, which was filled with an assortment of mismatched chairs. The chairs were arranged in a circle with Dumbledore sitting calmly towards the farthest wall. I felt kind of like a student going to see the headmaster again and I immediately felt chastised. I had to remind myself that I wasn't there because I'd done something wrong. I was there because Dumbledore needed my help.

I took a seat between Bill and Joss in the corner closest to the door. I think part of me hoped that by being next to them that I could somehow stop them from signing up for dangerous assignments. Val was part of the Order but she was in Romania, helping Charlie recruit foreign allies. Of all the assignments she could have, that one was relatively safe in comparison.

"Welcome," Dumbledore greeted us, the normal twinkle in his eyes missing. "I'm very thankful that so many of you have decided to come here today. We're here to discuss a very serious problem. Lord Voldemort is back." There were a chorus of gasps at Voldemort's name but he continued as if he didn't notice, "The Ministry has refused to believe that it's true. They would rather slander Harry Potter and I then face the reality that Voldemort is back and war is brewing." He took a deep breath before continuing, "They're afraid of what this means. They're afraid that if they admit Voldemort is back that their reality will change. They have every right to be frightened. Our world is going to change. That fear, however, doesn't give them the right to bury their heads in the sands. War is coming whether they acknowledge it or not."

The entire room seemed to shift in their seats. We'd all thought about the possibility of war but hearing it be said aloud made it so much more real. "We've been given an opportunity," Dumbledore went on to say. "Voldemort never intended for us to know that he was back. Harry wasn't supposed to survive. Now we have an opportunity to prepare before he reaches his full strength. Last time, he had an entire army, not just of his Death Eaters. Werewolves, giants, and vampires flocked to him too, as well as many others. He promises those who've been treated badly by wizards that he'll treat them better. Often times, they feel like he's the only option they have if they ever want to be accepted by society. We need to give them another option so they don't join him out of desperation."

He paused, scanning the room, "Each one of you has shown an enormous amount of courage and dedication just to be here tonight. You've risked so much just walking through the door. I'm going to ask things of you. Some of these things will be simple but most of them will be dangerous. I want each of you to decide now what you're willing to risk. I don't want there to be any false hopes or disillusions so let me be frank. I can't promise you that we'll be successful. I can't promise you that we'll win. I can't ensure your safety. I can't promise that what I ask you to do will be easy or safe. I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure your safety and to defeat Voldemort. If you can't accept those risks then I understand. Please let us know now. We'll perform a simple memory charm that makes you forget coming here tonight a security measure and send you home. None of us will judge you for walking away. I understand the gravity of what I'm asking."

The entire room was silent. I wasn't leaving. I knew very well the risks that came with being part of the Order. I'd decided when my father died that if I ever had the chance to help the Order than I'd do without hesitation. I'd made my peace with risking my safety to help bring Voldemort down the moment Dumbledore invited me to join the Order.

Moody let out a growl of approval, nodding his head at us from his perch by the fireplace, "I suppose there's some hope for this lot yet."

"Very well then," Dumbledore nodded. "Let's get to business then. We have two very important tasks that are absolutely crucial. Our first task is recruitment. We need to get to Voldemort's potential allies before he does. All of us need to work towards the front. Rubeus Hagrid is currently recruiting giants with one of our allies, Olympe Maxime. Remus Lupin has agreed to speak to several werewolves on our behalf. Charlie Weasley and Valerie Wilde are currently in Eastern Europe, working to recruit foreign wizards. We need foreign allies just as much as domestic. Voldemort won't hesitate to call in allies from around the world ad we shouldn't be afraid to do the same.

"Bill, I'd like you to contact any wizards in Egypt who would be willing to contribute to our cause. Kingsley and Tonks, you're in charge of trying to find any Aurors who might be willing to join our cause. Joss, I want you to do your best to recruit all the other Hit Wizards you can, both trainees and fully certified. Arthur and Emmeline, see if you can find anyone at the Ministry who might want to join but remember to exercise extreme caution. Hestia, I need you to focus on Diagon Alley. Dedalus, I want you to look for any Kent contacts. Sturgis, keep an eye around the shop for any potentials.

"Elphias, just focus your attention on making sure that the Wizengamot stays in one piece, alright? That should be more than enough work for you to do. Molly, if you could help Sirius make the house a bit more inhabitable then I would appreciate it. The last thing we need is to have to treat Doxy venom during our meetings. Speaking of which, Emma, I need you to keep an eye on St. Mungo's. Next to the Ministry and the Daily Prophet that hospital is incredibly influential. We need to make sure that it doesn't influence the public against us. Minerva, Severus, and I will be focusing on improving Hogwarts' security to make sure that Harry stays safe."

Finally the ancient professor took a breath, "Talking about Harry, we're going to need protection on him while he's at his aunt and uncle's house. Right now, Mundungus Fletcher and Mrs. Arabella Figg are in Little Whinging, ensuring Harry's safety. Mrs. Figg has graciously accepted a full-time position as his watcher but she is a Squib. She needs a witch or wizard with her to help protect him and Mundungus isn't going to be able to protect him all the time. I'd like to take volunteers to help cover this post."

Dedalus, Hestia, and Elphias all raised their hands, reminding me of children at school. The only person who'd dared speak since we came into this meeting was Moody and I had a feeling that he wasn't afraid of many things.

"Thank you. I'll talk with you later about shifts. Our later order of business is perhaps our most dangerous and requires the utmost discretion. We need to watch the Department of Mysteries after hours," Dumbledore informed us.

There was a murmur of shocked whispering among the members. We'd expected tailing Death Eaters and Harry but spying on the Ministry? I hadn't seen that one coming.

Dumbledore raised his hand to silence the whispering crowd, "There's something at the Department that Voldemort needs. He's going to try to take it. We need to make sure that doesn't happen. I can't give you any more details now but I promise you that this is important. Who can I count on to take on this responsibility?"

Breaking into the Ministry to watch the Department of Mysteries, where no one but Unspeakables were allowed to go, was dangerous. If we were caught then time in Azkaban was inevitable. It was worth risking though, wasn't it? I mean, if it kept Voldemort from getting something he needed?

Joss already had her hand in the air, as well as Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, Arthur, Emmeline, Sturgis, and my Bill. My hand immediately raised on its own. If Bill and Joss were going to do this then I was going to do it with them to make sure they stayed safe.

"I'll help as well," Moody nodded.

The rest of the meeting was spent divvying up the patrol times between the ten of us. Each night was split into a first and second shift, giving us fourteen shifts that needed to be covered. Moody demanded that everyone under the age of thirty not be able to patrol alone. I took the second shift on Sundays with Bill and Joss beat me to taking another shift with him. She chose to take the second shift on Tuesdays with him, probably as some sort of devious plot to embarrass me in front of him or interrogate him. She took the first shift on Sundays with Tonks, leaving me to take the second Wednesday shift with Tonks. I might not have liked it as much as I would have if I was allowed to take both shifts with Bill but at least Tonks and I could catch up and talk about Val's latest endeavors in Romania. If Val didn't tell me something then she was surely talking to Tonks about it.

The meeting was adjourned after that. I planned on taking Bill back to my flat for some quality time alone but Molly had other ideas. "Emma, dear, let's have a chat," she told me as the members were all saying their goodbyes. "I want your help assessing the damage."

I didn't believe it for a minute but I didn't challenge her on it. There was no way that she didn't know about Bill and me after how we'd acted in the meeting. If she hadn't figured out about him and me during the Third Task, which was improbable, then she definitely knew now. "Sure," I agreed weakly.

Bill immediately opened his mouth to interject, probably not wanting his mother and girlfriend to be spending any time together. Molly cut him off, "William, she'll be back in a second. It's not like I'm going to steal her. I just want her for a minute or two."

Molly ushered me off into the parlor before Bill could object. She slid the door closed behind us and I felt a sense of anxiety. This was my first time having a one-on-one with her as Bill's girlfriend. Actually, this was my first time ever meeting with a guy's mum as their girlfriend. I didn't know what to expect.

"I just thought you and I should have a bit of a chat," she informed me promptly. "It's not every day that I get to have a talk with my son's girlfriend."

I blinked at her, unsure of how to respond to that. Should I be begging for mercy for not introducing myself as Bill's girlfriend? I decided not to respond, hoping that she'd continue without needing me to reply.

"I like you, Emma," she told me finally. "I think you've got a good head on your shoulders and I think that you're good for him."

I hadn't expected that. I'd always been told that boyfriends' mothers were generally disagreeable. "He's good for me too," I admitted.

"I don't like to see my children unhappy. I know that he'd rather be in Egypt. He misses his tombs. I need you to help try and make him happy. I doubt his old mum can but maybe his girlfriend might have a better effect on him," she divulged. "I want him to be happy. Can you try to do that for me?"

I nodded slowly. Make Bill happy? Of course I could do that. Or at least I could try. I didn't know if I was quite the substitute for tombs he was looking for but it was worth trying.

She gave me a genuine smile, patting my hand appreciatively, "Thank you, dear. Oh and if you could get him to cut his hair then I'd appreciate that too."

I grinned. That sounded more like the Molly Weasley that Bill had been telling me about. "I'll see what I can do," I assured her.

"Thank you," she told me sincerely. "Now let's get you back to Bill before he starts getting paranoid that I'm showing you his embarrassing baby pictures."

Embarrassing baby pictures? I was intrigued. "Probably a good idea," I agreed. "Giving him a panic attack probably won't make him any happier."

"If he asks, we were taking about Doxy venom," she told me, giving me a conspiratorial grin.

I laughed and nodded, "Agreed."

She led me out of the room, opening the door for me to walk through, "I'll pick up some Doxycide in the morning. We should be able to decontaminate the house in no time."

"Aye," I nodded at her, playing along while Bill watched us suspiciously. "You make sure to pick some of the antidote too, alright? I could brew some for you if you'd like."

"That'd be lovely," she told me, deliberately ignoring him.

"Emma, Mum, this isn't funny," Bill told us hotly.

I turned to him, remembering my promise to Molly to make him happier, "I'm sorry, love. Did you want to say something about the Doxies?"

He scowled at us, grabbing my wrist, "We're leaving now." He rushed me out of the house without another word, not even stopping to tell his mother goodbye.

I gave him a mocking scowl as we got onto the stoop, "Well that wasn't very nice."

"We're going home," he informed me. He must have meant my flat when he said "home". He practically lived there and his own flat wasn't unpacked at all. It was full of stacked boxes and unarranged furniture.

I winced at the familiar, yet unwanted feeling of being sucked through a tube. We arrived in the middle of my living room with him in a strop.

"Talking about Doxies, my arse!" he scoffed, kicking off his trainers. "You're both horrible liars."

I tried not to roll my eyes at him. He'd been really easy to put into a bad mood lately ever since he moved back to England. I tried not to take it personally. I knew that he was having issues with having a desk job and being so far away from his tombs and pyramids. "Love," I tried to put on my best placating tone. "Your mother and I were just talking. Don't you want us to get along? Would you rather I tell her I won't help her?"

"No," he huffed, throwing his shoes forcefully into a pile by the front door.

I sighed before wrapping my arms around him from behind. I nuzzled my face into the small of his back, my hands resting on his chest. I could feel his heartbeat begin to quicken through his shirt. "Your mum just wanted to talk to another woman who's older than Ginny. It's hard on her to have a household full of so many blokes," I lied easily, sliding my hands persuasively along his chest. "Shouldn't she be allowed to talk to another woman?"  
He let out an inaudible murmur, causing me to smirk victoriously. This whole persuasion by seduction thing was something I was definitely going to have to continue experimenting with.

"I'm sorry, love, what was that?" I inquired, allowing my hands to trail downward for extra persuasiveness.

"I agree," he nodded with a small moan.

I nipped at the back of his shirt, "I'm glad you agree." I released my hold on him, "I've got to go to work now. My shift starts in fifteen minutes."

He whipped around to look at me in shock and disappointment, "_Now?_ Why _now_?" He groaned, "You're such a tease. You just to love to wind me up before you go to work, don't you?"

"Yep," I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll be back around half five in the morning so don't wait up." I turned my heel, Apparating to the hospital before he had a chance to stop me.

I had to admit, I had enjoyed holding a grudge against him and plotting my revenge but I was definitely enjoying terrorizing him while getting to snog him even more.


	31. NEWTs: Joss

Chapter 31

Okay, so maybe I was a tiny bit anxious to get my N.E. . It was completely understandable though. My old dorm mates had written me over the past few days when they got theirs and so far Mandy had gotten grades for being a Healer, Sophia had gotten her marks to be a Ministry official in some field I didn't remember and Karen had gotten her scores for being an Auror and had registered into the program yesterday.

I paced my room and imagined wearing a path straight through the floor. I wanted out of this stupid fucking room and into my new Hit Wizard suite. I wanted to see the hospital bed they'd have on call for me and wanted to see my instructors. I half wondered if I could arrange some side training with Mad-Eye, because damn it, he was cool- _even though the one I spent the most time with wasn't really him and was secretly a Death Eater but I still learned a lot anyways._

Karen's letter sat on my bed and I kept glancing at it. It had her fucking chicken scratch writing on it that honestly, before fourth year I practically needed an Ancient Runes book just to decipher it. Karen was the roommate I was closest with, not to say Mandy and Sophia were horrible, no they were easy to get along with, but Karen had more in common with me I suppose. We ranted and raved about the Falmouth Falcons together and argued about Quidditch teams with the other girls and she teased the mick out of me before I officially started dating Fred. Now she had her scores and she was a fucking Auror in training and I was sitting here pacing like a fool, waiting for mine.

All I could imagine was Karen doing this amazing stuff, like going on top secret assignments that risked her life and she'd be enjoying every single moment and I'd hear about it over a cuppa on one of her off-days, living vicariously through her. What if I didn't get in and I actually did have to live through her? It's always been what I wanted to do, ever since I was small and Dad had told me about a friend of his who was some big time Hit Wizard. Karen and I had spent hours talking about how wicked it would be when we got our dream careers.

Dumbledore recruited me to the Order even, but what if I didn't get the scores? What if the only reason I was invited into the Order was my position as Hit Wizard and then I wouldn't get in and I'd have no purpose there whatsoever and just be this huge dead weight?

I was pulled against something and I sighed, pausing my nervous pacing and leaning back against him. He rested his chin on my head squeezed his arms around my waist.

"Babes, you gotta relax a little. They'll come when they come."

I gave a low groan and shoved away from him, going to stand in front of the window, my arms defensively across my chest and I stared through narrow eyes out the glass. I heard him shuffle behind me.

"You don't get it! These are N.E.W.T.s we're talking about here, Freds. This is my last go at being a Hit Wizard and if I don't get these, if I don't get the scores, what the hell have I got going for myself, huh?"

Fred sighed and I heard him move to the bed, probably laying back down and staring at the ceiling like he'd been doing for an hour.

"I don't know anyone scarier with a wand than you, Joss, I think it's safe to say they'll be desperate for you on the team."

I thumped my head against the window and closed my eyes.

"But what if they don't?"

"Then they're bleedin' mental and I'll personally help you burn the whole Ministry to the ground."

I smiled and turned to peek around at him and saw him grinning at me. He was serious though, he'd totally do that for me. So far, dating wasn't so bad. I guess if your boyfriend is willing to burn down the whole Ministry of Magic because they turned your job application down, you've got a pretty good relationship.

I gave a moan and sank to the floor in a heap and stared pleadingly at him. He crawled over and sat beside me, pulling me into his lap and I laid my head on his broad shoulder.

"Don't worry, darling. You'll get in and become some famous Hit Wizard that has Death Eaters and the lot quaking at the mention of your name. I'll be your loyal lover, who also just so happens to own a very successful joke shop known all around the world and we'll be the power couple of the century."

I snorted and he slapped my arm.

"I'm serious! Everyone's going to know who we are and you're going to be kick-ass and I'm going to be successful and we'll have a bunch of kids who will have a hell of a legacy to live up to."

"Kids? How many do you think I'm popping out exactly?"

"Twelve."

"Tell you what, you grow a uterus and we'll talk."

"Deal."

"They better not all be gingers though."

"What is wrong with being a ginger, dare I ask?"

"I'd like to be able to tell them apart from the rest of your clan."

Fred pinched me in the ribs and I yelped, knocking my elbow into his chin in retaliation.

"Don't pinch me!"

"You love us red heads."

"I think you Weasleys could do with some color variety."

"It's our signature look."

"You have a _signature look_?"

"But of course darling, all the best families do." He said, in what I honestly think to be the snottiest voice I'd ever heard.

Fred lifted his chin high and looked down his nose at me and it was like looking at a red Draco Malfoy.

"This is disturbing. If you ever impersonate a Malfoy again I'm leaving you."

"Noted."

We grew quiet and I just kind of sat there. I could hear his heart beat under my head and Fred was humming some weird tune that was way off key and probably completely made up and I knew it'd be stuck in my head for a day.

I wondered what would happen if I didn't get good enough scores. I played with Fred's hand in my lap and moved his long pale fingers around, staring at it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, finding something else to do. But I had only ever seen this, being a Hit Wizard, as my endgame. I wanted the thrill of the fight, the adrenaline and the excitement and the recognition. Of course, when I imagined it all these years, Fred Weasley hadn't been in the endgame either. I honestly hoped that was the only thing that changed in my plans.

A tapping at the window had my leaping off Fred's lap and slamming the window open, desperately grabbing at the affronted owl. He hooted reproachfully at me and Fred left for my trunk to get him a treat for his troubles. I leaned against the wall for support and ripped open the seal, staring down at the writing.

With some sort of howl of triumph I ran at Fred, feeling his large hands under my arms as he lifted me in my momentum and I swung my legs around his waist, clinging onto him. His hands splayed along my back as he watched me with shining, excited eyes and I attached our lips, all the while the both of us grinning like mad.

"Someone got good scores." He commented.

"Someone is getting sex for putting up with me."

He grinned at me and fell backwards onto the bed, rolling us over.

"I'll deal with your mental antics anytime if it means I get rewarded like this after."

He gave a slower kiss this time and moved to my neck.

"You know, I've always had a thing for Hit Wizards." 


	32. The Dog Days Are Over: Jo

The Dog Days are Over: Jo

_Love is a Battlefield _Chapter 32

Mum had _finally_ become together enough to spend a day out of the house and not needing me. She had a beauty appointment at 10 and then lunch with her girlfriends at noon. They would then go shopping, chatting about children and clothes for hours. If I was lucky, they would also catch dinner. If Merlin loved me, they would then decide to catch a film. Mum hadn't seen her mates much since I'd gotten back from Hogwarts. She was barely out of her dressing gown the days Baldie didn't visit.

In any case, if Mum came home early, she wasn't about to find me. I'd managed to wandlessly float myself to the roof through my bedroom window and tuck myself away. Besides the goal of hiding from Mum, I was determined to have some sort of tan before going back to school. Goodbye English pale.

I was laying on one of our ancient, bleached out swimming towels in my old bikini (bought at 14 and still fit at 17, the wonders of being short), my stomach up, sunglasses on. I spread my arms out, letting the tips of my fingers stretch, trying to catch as much sunlight as possible. The blue dome of sky above had clouds lazing by, sometimes in distinguishable animal shapes. I sighed. I wished it was hotter.

Slight chill notwithstanding, it was a great place to think. For London, it was surprisingly quiet. The hum of traffic pervaded but not to a deafening degree. I spread my legs a bit, enjoying the sensation of being alone with sun.

This summer was infinitely better and infinitely worse than the last one. It was better because I was of age. Magic anytime I wanted, constant reminders that I wasn't like Mum or Baldie or any other Muggle. It was infinitely worse because I was the only one at my mother's house.

Ugh. I'd rather battle a chimera while riding an unruly hippogriff.

Without Joss around, Mum's craziness was focused on me. Baldie was coming over more often now too, the threat of marriage looming on the horizon. Since it would be "silly" for me to not be there when they had dinner here, I was more or less forced to sit with them through at-home meals. Mum's cooking skills hadn't improved at all. Some days she could wheedle me until I cooked for them. Other days we just ordered take-away. I tried to warn them off. I made degrading remarks, bored them with fake facts about my fake school, and lobbed bits of food around. One time when I made spaghetti, I had nearly covered a wall in noodles. It had no effect. Baldie was just that dense. I was always just the "the pretty, youngest daughter." Whenever he said that I had to repress a growl. Feeling my skin begin to warm up, I began to draw aimless little curly shapes on my stomach with my finger. It tingled a bit.

My misbehavior always riled up Mum afterwards. She would scream at me once he'd left, dissolving into groping hands and tears. "Why couldn't you be a nice girl," and "look what they've done to you," and "Val and Emma were never this bad," and "My darling's turning into a delinquent" and "you'll be in prison as soon as you graduate at this rate." I would try not to say anything back, just let her words wash over me. By Baldie's next visit she would have forgiven me, shaking me out of bed to help her put on make-up and pick out dresses to wear. Emma never had to come over to break us apart, heal our wounds. She was busy with other things anyway. Big sister finally had her own life.

For myself, I'd come to think of it as an exile from the Wizarding World. A final test. Can you survive a summer with your Mum by yourself but with magic? If so, you can do anything and will be the best witch of all time.

Part of the exile was self-imposed. George had tried to write me in the beginning of summer, trying to persuade me to visit him and his family. Not every day, like his brother had done, but every week or so. But I didn't reply. There were still the magnets, the want to be in his presence, and I hated it. Even now I could feel the pull in my stomach, the want. I hit my belly button with my fist. Stupid. The summer was meant to divorce us, keep us apart. Then, I would be all right if he and Fred decided to not come back to Hogwarts. Then, I wouldn't be disappointed.

That task, however, was getting to be nigh impossible. What was _with_ that bloke? I was constantly thinking about how he would react if he was here, how he would handle Mum or think of Baldie. I wondered what sweets he was cooking up and what he would do if he saw me occasionally tear up about the disastrous end of the year. Would we chug spiked butterbeer? Would he let me hold him for hours? What would we do when I was not sad? Fly, explode, run, prank, enchant, travel, joke? What would he say now, seeing me tan on my family's rooftop? Probably turn red as a radish and avert his eyes, the prude.

I spread my body out a little wider. I liked it when his face turned colors.

There were some distractions from George. First, I had started a project to deal with Mum. I hadn't consulted Emma or anyone about it, so it might not be the _best_ plan, but at least I was _doing_ something. I was so tired of just band-aid hack jobs with Mum, skating across the surface, only dealing with the symptoms. No. Not anymore. I was of age now and Merlin damn _magical_.

The idea had come from a thought I'd had last summer about turning tequila into ordinary water. I'd had to practice a bit, flirt with that bloke Eliot to buy me some liquor to practice on, but the end result was nice. With a little spell tinkering, I lowered the alcohol content of every bottle of booze Mum bought. It was a kind of forced easing off of the stuff. She had to drink more to become drunk, but there was only so much in the house and only so much her monitored budget could afford. Once I left for Hogwarts, I hoped she'd be less addicted, or at least her system not used to so much. Baldie was an unexpected ally in my project, his presence reducing the amount of alcohol Mum drank. With him, she had to keep up some appearance of normalcy. Drinking up to 6 glasses of wine in order to get even remotely snozzled was not normal.

I frowned a bit. I'd probably have to tell Emma eventually, just to make sure someone else encouraged her to drink less while I was at school. Then again, my sisters were not telling me things. Charlie and Val! _Finally_. Merlin. That had got to be the slowest romance in the wizard history. I felt my mouth quirk upwards. But good on her. I was glad she's happy. I wondered vaguely if she was having lots of sex.

I turned myself over on the roof, letting the sunlight play on my back. I reached for my wand and muttered into the roof some spells to deter prying eyes. I then untied the strings to my bikini top and draped them beside me. No awkward tan lines for this witch.

I bet there's some spell that gives you a tan, though. Stashed away in some witch magazine. I was currently too lazy to bother looking. Going through magazine archives seemed like the opposite of tanning.

I breathed into the rooftop, just feeling my lungs capture and release air. The small magic of life. Something I guess all of us would learn to appreciate soon enough.

I let my mind wander to the future. Oh yes N.E. . Bloody impossible things. I would do them though because that's what a witch did. Boring. I again hadn't thought what I wanted to do after, besides get away from this place.

Get away. There's a thought.

I could travel the country, maybe hop to Scotland and Ireland a bit. Some sort of travel...journalist? It was a bit like what Val was doing, but close enough where Mum wouldn't entirely panic. I gave a bit of a grimace. Considering our current relationship, it's a small wonder that Mum didn't disown me. How did she not disown _any_ of us? Emma I could see, but us younger ones...She just always seemed so upset. Joss and I were always so upset and upsetting.

But I could be a journalist until I thought of something better. Something different from my sisters. Something new. I'm sure the _Prophet_ would give me a job with enough cash to buy food. And that's all I really needed money for: if I practiced enough I could transfigure for other essentials. Maybe I would need money for some make up and clothes. And shampoo and conditioner. And a small flat with a working shower. Okay, so maybe I did need a substantial paycheck. But no way in holy Wizarding hell was I coming back here. My hands formed fists in resolution. I would have my own place ready for me to move in the second I had finished my final ride on the Hogwarts Express. No one would stop me.

Joss had done it, though George had informed me of her "flat" at the Leaky Cauldron. She was safely in Hit Wizard Training now, making friends and learning how to properly kill people after threatening to do so for years. Joy. Weren't we a happy family.

"Josephiiinneeeeee," came a squeal from below. "Where are you, darling?"

I closed my eyes and sighed. It was around 5 o'clock: she hadn't gone to dinner.

I heard the front door slam and if I stretched my hearing I could hear her banging about the house, opening and shutting cabinet drawers. "Josephine! Come downstairs and see what Mummy's bought!"

I shrunk on the roof, curling into a ball, wrapping my arms around my knees, burying my head into my folded limbs. She was home early. I wanted to disappear. Disappear, disappear, disappear...

Mum's footsteps creaked and groaned on the stairs and my bedroom door was opened. I imagined Mum blinking at the sight of the open window, surprised by the emptiness of the room. "Josephine?"

And then, in a much smaller voice, "Jo?"

I heard the snap of my window shutting.

After this summer, it would be over. Being alone with Mum would be over. Standing there while being screamed at for being a failure of a daughter would be over. Martini Mondays, dragging Mum to bed, lying about her beauty, coaxing and manipulating her to rest, negotiating my way out of fights would be over. Hiding on rooftops would be over. Maybe her alcoholism would be over. Maybe her pain and stress about having four strange daughters with a dead man would be over, the reminders of what once was gone. Maybe her life with Baldie would be better. Our relationship was always better at a distance. There would be the holidays, the vague parties, the occasional letters. But this, this living close together, would be over. The daughters would all be gone, scattered, their own persons facing a war our Mum refused to contemplate. My life would be better. I would get off that Hogwarts Express with my diploma and walk right into a life of my own making. Into a battle.

For some reason, the image of George Weasley flashed through my mind.


	33. A Letter to Joss: Val

**A/N: Val's POV**

Joss,

Hey, you, congratulations on your N.E.W.T.s! I mean, I knew you were bright, but I was pleasantly surprised at just how good your results ended up being, considering how much of your school years you spent shirking responsibility and rebelling against everything that had anything to do with authority and order. And all that time spent in detention, naturally.

I know things are getting pretty crazy over there in England and I'm sure Mum's having fits. Make sure Emma's getting enough sleep and spending enough time on herself. I'm sure this is making her self-sacrificing habits ten times worse. Don't let her, even if you have to use Bill to give you a hand. I'm sure Molly would help, too. Emma can't burn herself out, it wouldn't be good for anyone.

I know Jo's probably furious about being the only one with Mum. I hope you're being a decent sister and visiting regularly like Emma does. Actually, you could also take Jo out sometimes, get her out of the house of nightmares. I wish I could visit more often, but I've got so much work to do here between actual work and doing things for D. (I have to refer to it as thus, in case someone's reading my letters. I think they're suspicious of me. Anyway, you know what I'm talking about, I think.)

Charlie lets me read the letters from his brothers, and you should see some of the things Fred Weasley's been writing about you! That boy's obsessed! Go, Joss! I have to say, though, Jo sure bagged the poet of the bunch. I think George has actually been reading poetry, looking for ways to describe her. Every time he writes about her it gets more flowery and adoring. Charlie tries reading it to me out loud, but he can't do it without laughing.

In his defense, I'm usually laughing, too.

Actually, the one who's being really cryptic about things is Bill. If I want to know anything about Bill and Emma, I have to get it from Emma's ranting letters because Bill's very closed off about his love life. Who would have guessed? I think Charlie and the twins are more bragging types, although I would have thought Bill would have been that way, too. I will tell you one thing, we've picked a bunch of boys who need to be entertained and challenged. I mean, a Cursebreaker, a dragon specialist, and from what I can tell the next big rivals to Zonko's... We must be crazy.

Things are fine in Romania. News is pretty slow, so work is more searching for anything to write about than actually doing any writing, but that's half of good journalism, I suppose. Charlie keeps me optimistic about every lead I chase down, insisting every time that it's going to be the one that pays off.

Oh, I don't think I've told you yet, I know I told Tonks, Charlie and I are officially in a relationship now! It's nice to be open about things, but sometimes I wonder if he's gone crazy, actually committing to me. His co-worker, Felix, certainly doesn't seem happy about it, but he's keeping his distance. It seems now if someone's going to be witnessing any more fights in bars, it's going to have to be Emma because for one thing Charlie doesn't take me to the tavern for anything but lunch anymore, and Felix has been more than avoiding us. I'm pretty sure he finds out when I'm visiting the colony just so he can be 'sick' on the right days. I almost feel sorry for him, but then I remember him making an ass of himself and all pity fades quickly.

So, yeah, things are great with Charlie. Can you believe that if I had just talked to the boy in school we probably would have been together ages ago? I guess Tonks was right, I can be too cautious for my own good sometimes. Over-practical. Whatever. I showed her, leaving the country, being spontaneous.

Since you're not only of age but also out of school now, I will answer your question. No, we haven't had sex yet. I mean, not really. I mean, we've slept together, and we've showered together, and... Well, no, no sex, okay? Can you live with that? I'll tell you when it's happened if you promise not to hound me for details. You already know that Tonks is hounding me. And she'll never stop.

Well, Charlie should be back from work any time so I'll just give you some last-minute, important advice. Firstly, don't move in with Fred, no matter how nicely he asks, until you're married. Period. End of story. That isn't Mum or Emma being old-fashioned, that's Val saying that it's a lot easier to do stupid things when you're always together.

Secondly, Hit-Wizard training is tough. Tonks says it's almost as tough as Auror training, and I know how you like to shirk on things that require hard work a lot of the time. But I'm hoping that won't be the case, since you want this so badly. I bet you could even finish early if you put your mind to being the best. They may not want to admit it, but... Well, you know.

Thirdly, you need to write me more often! I miss hearing from you, you know that! Your life is far more interesting than mine; I'm begging you to fill me in!

So keep close, keep in touch, and behave yourself, and don't let me hear from Jo and Emma that you've been doing otherwise! Being a fully-qualified witch carries great responsibility, Joss. Don't be an idiot. I love you!

-Val


	34. How It Feels: Emma

I needed to stop working so many twelve hour days. It was like whenever anyone at the hospital asked me to work late I couldn't tell them no. It was like I completely forgot the fact that I, as a human being, needed sleep. The midnight to noon shift was trying to kill me.

I Apparated back to my apartment, too tired to feel nauseous. I kicked off my trainers, staggering towards my bedroom.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" I nearly jumped a foot in the air, looking around the living room for the source of the noise. Bill was sitting in an armchair, his arms crossed in front of him. If looks could kill then I'd be very, very dead.

"Bill, love, you nearly gave me a heart attack," I told him, brushing off his question. "Why aren't you at work? I thought you were working Saturday mornings at the bank."

"Because I've been waiting for you to get home," he informed me. "You were supposed to be home hours ago! Do you know how worried I've been? I thought something'd happened! Don't you remember what it was like the last time Voldemort was rising to power? People'd get murdered and abducted all the time! Do you know how afraid I was that they'd got you? How scared I was that your sisters were going to be called in to identify your body? Do you have any idea –?"

I threw my arms consolingly around him, trying to break his momentum. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to worry you. I was at the hospital. Hippocrates asked me to work a few more hours because we were completely swamped. There was a stable full of winged horses that got loose and went on a rampage near Kent. I would have Flooed you but I knew you'd be here and the flat's not connected to the Network. We don't have any owls on hand and I couldn't get away to come home and tell you. I'm sorry to have worried you."

He sighed, squeezing me firm to his chest, "I suppose I was being a bit ridiculous, wasn't I?"

I shook my head, "No. I worry about you every time you go outside. I'm always afraid I'm going to come home and find you dead with the Dark Mark looming outside just like my dad." I shivered at the thought, clenching tightly onto him.

"That won't happen," he assured me.

"How do you know that?" I demanded, tears beginning to fall from exhaustion and fear. "You can't know that! You can't –" I broke off into hysterical sobs, tightening my grasp on him.

"It's alright," he soothed, stroking his thumb comfortingly along my spine. "We're both going to be alright. We need to stop worrying so much before we get more paranoid than Mad-Eye. The war hasn't really started yet. We still have time left before we have to worry. Voldemort's trying to keep a low profile. He isn't going to be killing and kidnapping people like he used to. He needs the world to think he's still gone. We're going to be safe from that for a little while at least. I think we both need to calm down before we start giving ourselves ulcers."

I sniffled. He was right. Voldemort wasn't going to want to draw a lot of attention. We'd be safe while he staying discreet. I nodded, shakily releasing my grip on him, "You're right. I was being ridiculous."

"No worse than me," he assured me, giving my hand a squeeze. "Now how about we get you to bed before you fall over? You look exhausted."

I could have kissed him but that would have required more energy than I currently had. Thank Merlin for understanding boyfriends.

"A very good idea," I agreed with a yawn to reiterate my point. "Tuck me in?"

He rolled his eyes at me, "Merlin, you're demanding. Alright, love, fine. I'll tuck you in but you can't make me enjoy it."

I thought about pushing my luck and demanding that he carry me to bed but I figured it'd probably take more energy to persuade him to carry me to bed than it would to just walk there on my own. I staggered into the bedroom with him trailing obediently behind me. He was really quite well-trained, especially considering how he and I had only been staying together for a little over a month. The first week and a half that he came back to England permanently for he stayed at the Burrow with his parents, making it harder for him to get away with sleeping at my flat. Finally when he found a flat of his own it became easier for him to spend the night at my place. I tried to tell him that it was more logical for him to just officially move into my flat and put his up for rent but he refused. He told me that I didn't want to face his mum's wrath if she found out that we were cohabiting before marriage.

I flopped onto the bed, clenching my eyes shut before he even had a chance to tuck me in like I'd asked. I'd changed my mind about it. I was too tired for that adorable act of affection. I only had a few hours before I had to be at Grimmauld Place to treat any of the potentially wounded and have an Order meeting.

I could feel him peel off my socks, causing me to open one eye to look at him questioningly, "What are you doing?"

"Saving you from getting a heat stroke," he replied earnestly. "It's too hot for you to sleep with all those clothes on. I'm just doing you a favor so you don't overheat."

I snorted, clenching my eye back shut, "That's perhaps the worst excuse a bloke has ever given me to try to get me out of my clothes."

"What other blokes have been trying to get you out of your clothes?" he demanded.

"Stop asking questions or I'm going to sleep fully clothed," I informed him tiredly. I had enough energy to let him strip me but I didn't have enough energy to have this conversation about my past love life.

He went silent, unbuttoning my shirt. He must have decided that getting me out of my clothes was more important than grilling me about my past relationships. He'd probably wait until I woke up to pounce on me with a thousand questions. He lifted my torso a few inches off of the mattress, slipping off my shirt. I groaned. This was really cutting into my sleeping time. I tried to wait it out, reminding myself that he had spent the entire morning worrying that I was dead or in the Death Eaters' possession. He enjoyed a little bit of happiness after I nearly gave him an anxiety.

I could feel his fingers teasing my trousers' zipper. He obviously wasn't in as nearly as much of a hurry as I was. It seemed more like curiosity than unadulterated passion. He knew that he was going to get shagged so he didn't really have anything to rush towards.

I turned my head to the slide, trying to fall asleep while he entertained himself with my zipper. I needed the few hours of sleep I had a chance of getting. I couldn't let my boyfriend's sexual appetite take them away from me.

"Emma," he murmured, burying his nose into my neck.

I let out non-committal mumble in reply. My brain was too far gone to be capable of composing words, let alone complete sentences.

He went silent and I began to wonder if I'd fallen asleep before he got to finish what he was saying. He gave me one final kiss on the temple, "Good night."


	35. Hit Wizard Training Blues: Joss

I ended up getting a flat with Karen, my roommate from Hogwarts who was in Auror training. We didn't see each other much, considering training took up much of our days and her training involved a lot of isolation. Sometimes the most contact I had from her was when she sent her rent.

The first day I moved in I invited Jo over to help me set up. Mum had been bugging her an awful lot but apparently she was more sober. Jo mentioned something about diluting her alcohol. I have to say, the flat wasn't much. Two Ministry trainees didn't make all that much pay I guess. It was small; the view was that of a street, we had loud neighbors and neither one of us owned that much stuff.

Work was exhausting. It wasn't even _work_ yet. All I did was learn spells and curses I had already learned. Mainly what we needed to learn was how to arrest someone without alerting the Muggles. That was a little bit harder. It took a great deal of stealth, learning how to blend in with the crowd and non-verbal wandless magic under pressure. We also had to know what to do when we did accidentally alert Muggles. Obliviating took more concentration than I anticipated.

"You're busy a lot." Fred said.

I stood in front of my little desk, sorting through some paperwork and letters and he was sprawled out on my bed, scorching my ceiling with tiny little colorful sparks.

"It's called work."

"Fred needs attention."

"You need a lot of things, mental help being one of them. You have like eight hundred siblings and a bunch of mates on holiday. The last thing you need is attention."

"They don't give attention like you do."

I turned to give him a look. I heard his tone, cheeky bastard.

"Keep whining and I won't give you any attention at all."

Fred pouted at me from across the room and heaved a sigh. He was just tired. He and George had spent the night doing Merlin knew what involving their joke products. He got cranky when he was tired.

"Well, you can stay here and whine at the walls, I'm sure they've heard worse, or you can go home and whine to George. Either way, I have work."

I threw on a jacket and slipped on my boots, shoving my wand in the back of my pants and heading towards the door.

"I don't get a kiss good-bye?" he cried.

I rolled my eyes and shut the door firmly behind me. My boyfriend was a whiny five-year old.

"Wickerman."

"Here."

"Wilde."

"Here."

I wished I wasn't, but that wouldn't go over well with my superiors. I had my feet on the desk and was leaning back in my chair. If that wasn't the picture of boredom, I don't know what was. There were only a grand total of twelve people in the program and all we did was learn spells I already knew. What did my instructors think I was doing at school, counting cobwebs?

"Wilde, get your feet off the desk."

My teacher was some plump old man who probably couldn't go out on actual missions anymore so they stuck him with an irrelevant desk job. I wondered how much he hated his life right now. Did he go home and cry himself to sleep at night? Maybe he lived with his mummy again.

"Wilde, put your feet down."

He looked like a mummy's boy. Maybe when he cried himself to sleep at night because his life was so pathetically boring she had to come in with like, some tea and cookies to cheer him up. Maybe that made him cry harder, realizing his mum lived right down the hall.

"_Wilde_!"

"Yessir?"

"Feet."

"Are a limb of the body. You can tie the shoe laces together to keep the feet from moving, easily hindering your target's escape."

"I meant yours."

"What about mine? I'm not wearing laces."

"Get them off the table."

"Was there a _please_ in there?"

"There was a _now_ in there."

"Must have missed that."

I set my feet down and nodded to myself. Definitely lived with his mother.

As the class wore on, I couldn't help but think that this was different than Hogwarts. Sure, I mouthed off to McGonagall a lot, spent most of my time bickering with her during classes, but the most she would do would give me a months' worth of detention scrubbing old trophies and hide a smile. Here, I could risk my whole career if I mouthed off to the wrong person. It was a hard life, but someone had to do it.

I could think of a million other ways to spend my time. There's nothing more boring than learning about spells you already know. I wanted to stab myself with my own wand. Karen was probably out learning some dark magic her targets would be using. I was here trying not to count how many times this red-faced mummy's boy blinked in the span of a minute.

A sudden soft breeze came in and I placed a finger down to keep my papers from flying away. I was supposed to be writing notes, but…no. It was when a new piece of paper landed in front of my face that I woke up into the land of the living a little.

_Miss me? _

I blinked but it didn't take me more than a millisecond to figure out who was interrupting a Hit Wizard class in the Ministry of Magic itself to pass notes to their girlfriend.

_No. _

_That would wound me terribly, if I didn't know you were enjoying every second of this. _

Ah, two-way paper.

_We're passing notes. What're we in second year? _

_How boring is the class darling that you're even dignifying me with responses? _

_I'm debating how hard I'd have to shove my wand through my eye to get out of here. _

_Well, that's a problem, as I'm quite fond of your pretty little eyes. Maybe I should help. _

I had a moment to wonder what the hell he we going to do before a tiny firework shot through the open window and started sparking in the middle of the floor. I raised my eyebrows at it before shoving the note, or more like evidence now, into my jacket pocket.

My dear teacher looked like a lost puppy; he didn't know what to do. The firework spit something in his direction and he backtracked so fast he almost fell over. I bit one of my knuckles and leaned back in my chair, feet up, ready to watch the show.

The firework seemingly stopped and the other kids started talking, wondering what that was even about. The teacher wandered over, a little hesitantly, and toed it. I snorted. This was a Weasley Wizarding Product. This wasn't even the beginning.

Suddenly it exploded with a snap and a puff of smoke and after some coughing it dissipated and I nearly doubled over laughing. My teacher's puffy little red face was covered in this type of soot looking substance and when he tried to wipe it off nothing moved. He was grey faced now. Wonder what his mother will think.

"What in the name of Merlin's left ball is happening?" he rumbled.

A student in the back sniggered and someone else let loose a great big belly laugh and even through the soot you could see the man's face flush. And then there was another one that went soaring in through the window and arched in the air, flying over the teacher with surprising aim and exploded with shrieking confetti. I cracked up; the confetti actually screamed. _Screaming Streamers._

The teacher was doing some sort of dance, trying not to step on any of it but frightened by the screams. I wondered how he even made it to Hit Wizard with his skills. This was pathetic.

Kids started laughing and calling out and the screaming continued and the teacher was losing his cool when another one came in, dropping sparkling red and gold powder. I nodded my head in approval of our school colors. My boy always remembered his house pride.

The teacher sputtered and sneezed and actually fell over when he stumbled back this time. I outright laughed and hunched over in my seat and someone next to me was already laughing so hard they were wheezing. The class was in an uproar by now and the teacher was grey-faced, stepping on screaming streamers and covered in sparkly red and gold powder. He threw his hands in the air and ripped the door open, much to the surprise of the workers out in the halls, and screamed; "I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THIS!" before booking it down the hall.

Needless to say we were all questioned but no one knew what happened really and I wasn't telling my superiors my mastermind of a boyfriend just wanted to end my boredom during hit wizard training so he bombed the Ministry of Magic with exploding joke products. It wouldn't go over well.

I think it was also a given that when I got home that night, Fred was getting a _lot_ of attention.


	36. Done: Jo

Done: Jo

_Love is a Battlefield _Chapter 36

September 1st, the last September 1st that was going to matter, dawned hot. The weather was pretending it wasn't September, for which it was a terrible liar, because I was so _done_ with summer and this bloody house. If I played my cards right, I would never sleep under this roof again.

Mum, of course, was a blubbering mess at this prospect.

"My last baby!" she whined, handkerchief mopping up her tears and patting her blotchy face. "My last darling girl! Going to that nasty school and leaving me and Archibald behind!"

Oh yes. Archibald was here too. He came over early for breakfast, which forced Mum to not attempt to drink herself into an even greater tizzy. Instead, she was showered and clothed in a great billowy yellow dress, something that contrasted nicely with her hair, actually, and almost reminded me of wizard robes. Baldie had dressed up for the occasion too, wearing a dress shirt and trousers, though I imagined by noon he would sweat through both. Now he was all smiles, linking arms with Mum as we walked to the waiting car in the driveway. I could have easily Apparated to some King's Cross toilet stall, but that would have been too startling for our mother. And she must deserve this. This small form of goodbye.

"There, there, my dear. Jo will be back for Christmas, won't you? You'll see her then," Baldie reminded her, patting her hand. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, slipping off his glasses.

I lugged my trunk to the boot of the car, the heat pressing down on the bare legs, uncovered except for my denim shorts, showing off my slight tan (I'm a bit smug about that). A low breeze tugged at my loose white button-up. I could feel hair escaping my bun, sticking to my neck, but I reminded myself that my appearance didn't matter because my heart was definitely not thumping in my chest in anticipation of seeing a certain Weasley boy. No. No. Definitely not. My stomach seemed to crackle at the thought.

Joss mercifully honked the horn of the car. "Hurry up the hugs and kisses: I've got to go to training!"

Mum startled a bit at the noise. My project had worked a bit: she had gotten more sober over the summer, I think. Full bottles of alcohol were piling up, which was a paradoxical sign that she wasn't drinking. I'd enchanted all the rest, but I wasn't sure what would happen once those were gone. What if she went off the deep end? Her tolerance was lower so it would take considerably less.

Baldie, of all people, seemed to be thinking these same thoughts. Our eyes met through his glasses and he gave me a small smile. He patted her arm again. _I'll take care of her._

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. His very presence, which was reaching near-constant levels, always calmed her down. Then again, Mum had a long way to go to being completely functional.

To demonstrate this point, Mum sprang from Baldie's grasp then and flung her arms around me. "Josephine, darling, you'll write, won't you? Emma has been so busy and not able to call. That dratted hospital of hers. And Val is still in Romania and Joss with her training. Mummy's got an empty nest."

"It'll just be a regular school year, Mum," I reassured her. "We'll think about post-graduation when it's closer."

She squeezed me harder. "And then you'll get married to a nice rich young man and have lots of grandchildren right next door."

"I'm going to have your grandchildren _in a hospital_."

"That's what I meant, dear. Mustn't get confused now. Find a young man first."

"I hate to interrupt this spectacular delusion you have that Jo will cough up kids, but we have to leave," Joss said.

Mum gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. She pulled back and I saw that she actually was crying. I felt the corners of my mouth slide downward. "It'll be alright, Mum," I said. "You have Archibald, remember. You'll have lots of fun with him."

"Oh yes, Archie!" Mum turned to him and went back to being on his arm.

I watched the odd couple for a second before saying, "Goodbye, you two." I slammed the boot closed and got in the passenger. As Joss revved up the engine, Mum and Baldie waved excitedly. I waved back until we turned the corner and they were out of sight.

I took a deep breath through my nose. I was done. I was finished with all that. It could be at a distance from now on. As the Wizard War raged, they would be fine.

"Alright, I've got questions," Joss said.

"Ugh, what are they?" I sighed. Might as well get the cross-sister examination over too.

"What did you _do_ to Mum? She seemed more an excitable bint than usual."

"She's slowly figuring out that I lowered her alcohol intake. I think Baldie will help her through it. Or at least try."

"But she hardly took the time to criticize me about my job. I was looking forward to setting Fred on her."

"That sounds like you should be thanking me more than questioning me."

"But what the hell did you do to bewitch the banshee?"

"I lived with her the entire summer. By myself."

An awkward silence settled in the car. I shouldn't blame, Joss. Merlin knows I would have done the same thing if our positions were reversed. My gaze lazed towards the window, seeing Muggle London pass by. Joss was actually pretty expert at navigating the city in the Muggle contraption, smoothly turning the wheel and not killing the other drivers. "Where did you learn to drive?" I asked.

A sly grin grew on her face. "Fred."

"Ah. Also, when did you start setting your boyfriend on people?"

"Long story: involves boredom and fireworks. Next question: who are you all dressed up for?"

"What?"

Her eyes slid from the road to look me up and down. "You've got your 'nice' clothes on when usually you use those frumpy Muggle rags before you change into your uniform. What gives, little sister?"

Merlin, I did not want Joss to know about him. I would get a letter a week telling me to shag him silly. "Maybe I just wanted to look nice for my last first day at school, ever thought about that?"

"Uhhhh-huh. It definitely does not have to do with George, does it?"

I groaned and tried to choke myself with my seatbelt.

"Stop that, or I'll hex your face. Explain, little sister."

I put the palms of my hands against my eyes. "There's nothing going on, I swear to Merlin, would you please leave it alone."

"You were all buddy-buddy with the Weasels at the end of last year. George talked to you while you were upset and returned with his entire face intact. Even Fred's been asking after you. Said you weren't answering George's letters. Wanted to know if you were alive."

"Merlin's fuck," I replied. Joss knew everything. I wanted to slip from my seat and through the car and lay on the road until someone ran me over to end my mortification.

"My word of advice, little sister, is that if you want to sell your Magical soul and do as Mum wants and marry some moronic rich Muggle, as a last act of rebellion you should get your cherry popped by a wizard."

I stared at her. "That is possibly the worst bit of advice I have ever heard in my life."

"Yeah, well, I'm also not the one who locked herself up with our mother all summer."

"Someday, somewhere, someone is going to find bits of you spread over a motorway and they'll never be able to find out who did it."

"Such affectionate words. You can get out of the car, now."

I looked out the window. "How are we already at King's Cross?"

Joss waggled her eyebrows at me. "Magic."

We shared a smile. "Brilliant," I whispered. "I love magic. Thanks, Joss!"

I jumped out and dug my trunk out of the boot before going back to the window to say goodbye.

"Be good, little sister. You're the last Wilde." She winked. "Give 'em hell."

We were both laughing as she pulled away from the curb. Joss had told Mum we would need an hour and a half to get from home to the railway, but it had been barely ten minutes. She'd saved me almost an hour early: it was only 10 o'clock. I watched her drive away and noticed how the car slid into impossible spaces, changing lanes and scooting ahead of the traffic easily. Amazing.

Once Joss was gone, I looked down at my trunk. I'd cast a weather-light charm, but it was still a bit heavy. I'd packed as much of my room as possible in it, wanting to have as little excuse as possible to go back home. I lifted the slight monstrosity and used the wheels to maneuver to platforms 9 and 10.

And there it was. The barrier. A thin line of illusory magic that separated the ordinary from the extraordinary. My life from Mum's. Crossing it was like a goodbye too, a farewell to these dog day summers, to directly dealing with my mother's alcoholism. It was freedom. It was what I wanted.

I crossed it and the smells of 9 and 3/4 assaulted my nose. There was instantly the quirk and itch and brightness of magic in the air. The hum of being alive and changeable. The world seemed cleaner, less burdened (though the opposite was true). The train was there, some other students and their families meandering about the platform. I passed them all and quickly boarded, feeling the strange hush and quiet tingle through my skin. It was usually so busy by the time I got here. Now the train was mostly empty.

It wouldn't be for long. It seemed like I had just tucked myself away in a compartment when noises entered the space, the called out greetings and chatter and human warmth bringing the train back to its usual life. Like a punch in the gut, I realized George must be here, somewhere. Should I stay here? Should I go find him? I nervously tugged at my clothes, half-praying no one would come in this compartment, half-wishing he would. I could feel the electricity building up, the pull coming in with renewed force. He had to be here. Please.

After a half-hour of this, I realized what a twit I was being. I changed into my school robes, tucked my wand in my pocket, and opened the door to find him. I searched around, walking up and down the train until I spilled back out onto the platform.

And there he was.

Or rather he and his double.

The two were standing there, in a crowd of other people, talking with them, their trunk and extra books on a trolley. I sucked in a breath, trying to figure out which was which, but their faces were too far away to tell by freckles. Using wandless magic to nudge past the crowd, I approached, focused on their faces because I had to know which was which, which was the one I had hoped, prayed, would be here.

Their mirror blue eyes were staring at me by the time I was in front of them. I looked carefully and counted.

Ah. The one on the left.

"You're back," I said quietly.

"I am," he said.

I tackled him into a hug.

"Oi! If you two would like to get a room," said Fred. "There are people about."

"Shut up, Fred." I glared at him. "Hello, everyone else."

From George's arms, I saw that Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were staring. Ginny sniggered behind her hand. I let go of George and stepped back. While smoothing out my clothes, I darted glances at him, trying to see how he had changed.

George had cut his hair over the summer (pity) and he somehow seemed taller. His shoes were scuffed up and his Muggle clothes a bit worn and rumpled (my fault there though). They looked comfortable, and, judging by the small bulges everywhere, there was plenty of pocket space. The new fifth years somehow also seemed larger, especially Harry and Ron, who seemed to have grown a foot. Ron and Hermione had small (owl?) scars on their fingers and Harry's eyes seemed to be reigning in something, a hidden anger. His green irises seemed ready to firecracker. Guess that's what happens when there's a war on. And he, of all people, was its epicenter.

I turned my attention back to George. "I've got a compartment we could use, come on." Leading them back there, I called, "Oh, and Joss sends her regards, Fred."

"Did she send a kiss too?"

"She could have sent you a punch in the face."

"That'd be more like it."

I think Ginny muttered something about weird relationships under her breath and Hermione nodded her head, bemused.

It was a large crowd, but we, plus a pleased Lee Jordan we picked up along the way, settled into the compartment. I snuggled into George's side, breathing in the comforting scent of him as he put an arm around me. The whole year would be like this: no Mum, no Martini Mondays, no Muggles. It would be a dragon's worth of studying, but it would be peaceful.

Until we graduated that is. The war was waiting. The Hogwarts Express was already moving towards it.

"So what did you all do over the summer?" I asked, eager to hear their stories. Probably something really amazing like-

"Nothing much," Fred shrugged.

"Mostly stayed in," added George.

"Harry and I practiced Quidditch," said Ron, a proud note in his voice. "He's Captain of the team this year."

I noticed the glint of a shiny Prefect badge. "And you were made Prefect, I see."

"Hermione too," Ginny said.

Harry seemed sullen. "I watched the news."

My eyes widened in question. "Good job?" They all seemed tense somehow, like they were avoiding the same thing. Obviously this was not what they had been doing over holiday. I sighed and buried my head into George. It might be some shared drama, something that would add to Harry's anger, but just in case, I asked softly, "You weren't fighting were you?"

The room seemed to go still. George's arm tightened around me. "No," he said. "We weren't."

There was a slight bitterness to his voice.

"Well, this is bloody depressing," Lee interjected. "Show us the new products you wrote me about."

The Canary Incident popped in my head. "Are they safe?"

Fred and George wore matching grins. "Oh, definitely."

George continued, "We're going to test them out on students, see what they really like and want."

Fred rubbed his hands together. "It's going to be brilliant, it is. All those unsuspecting first years..."

"You can't go testing products on first years!" Hermione said, aghast. "That's horrible!"

"And which rule would that be breaking, Miss Prefect?" said Fred.

"Don't reckon they have a rule for that," George added.

"Hermione, calm down. We have to go to the Prefect's meeting anyway. Sort it out later," Ron said. "See you."

As the pair exited, Ron more or less dragging a fuming Hermione, Lee smiled like a devil, "Filch is going to be pissed."

The rest of the ride passed like that, the twins pulling out invention after invention. I loved Weasley's Wildfire Whizbangs. I immediately bought one of the Skiving Snackboxes and as a joke a whole bag of Canary Creams. Alicia, Katie, Angelina, Neville, and Leanne also piled into our compartment (lots of lap sitting was involved) and soon we were all drowning in feathers, edible Dark Marks, trick wands, and Ton-Tongue Toffees. Ginny succumbed to a Nosebleed Nougat and Neville accidently set off some fireworks, which left bloodstains on the carpet and scorch marks on the ceiling. The trolley lady saw them and nearly had a heart attack, but showed us how to clean them up nonetheless (and in compensation we bought a cauldron-full of her sweets). On the plus side, Harry came out of his angry shell a bit, finally relaxing and enjoying himself enough to let me teach him how to make flying paper cranes.

"That was possibly the best train ride of my life," I told George as we got off and headed towards the carriages. We were arm in arm since I was enjoying his presence entirely too much to let him go. He didn't seem to mind.

The crowd of black-robed students was streaming from the train, Hagrid's mass bulk swarmed by tiny eleven-year-old bodies. As we walked, the Castle came into view and lit up like sky with warm, welcoming light.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I said. I leaned my head on George's shoulder.

A smaller voice answered, "Why didn't you answer my letters?"

I did not want to think about Mum. "It's complicated. I didn't want them to say you were not coming back."

"And not writing back would prevent this?"

"I was dealing with my Mum. She's better now. She'll be alright if I...don't come back. I wanted to do something to help her instead of just watching it get worse all the time."

George sighed. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." I fidgeted. "Let's just get through this year, okay? It can't be as insane as the last."

George nodded. When we reached a carriage, he opened the door for me and we both climbed in. Summer was officially over.


	37. Tallinn: Val

A/N: Val's POV

Charlie and I had routines. We had breakfast together. We went about our work days. We had lunch together unless one of us had a work lunch, then back to work. Then we had dinner together and one of our flats, chatted about life over a cup of tea, showered together, and fell asleep in each other's arms at whoever's flat we happened to be at.

That was on weekdays.

Weekends had much the same, except Sundays were date days where we took turns, still, deciding what amazing or low-key dates we were going to tackle together (everything from him dragging me up to see reindeer in northern Finland to my making him explore the Greek islands). Saturdays, we did whatever Dumbledore's coded messages from the Order informed us we were to do, which often meant trips to Estonia to deal with his 'contact'.

The 'contact', mind you, was a vampire. Yes, we were trying to court the vampires, as a way of speaking. Charlie wasn't particularly comfortable around Mikko, the Finnish vampire we met with most Saturdays, said he didn't like the way Mikko looked at me or my neck, but I wasn't about to leave him alone in a room with a vampire.

So much for overcoming prejudice.

It was a Saturday, and as always, Charlie was making sure everything was packed for our weekend away and I was panicking that we would miss our portkey.

"Relax, love," he sighed, tossing in his favorite of my bras when he thought I wasn't looking. "Everything's going to be fine, just like it always is. Now, have you seen my knife?"

"In the drawer by your socks, right where you left it," I sighed, tossing my hair up in a quick, messy bun.

"Put your hair down," he said in a strained voice. "Please, Valley."

Right, my neck. He'd grown preoccupied with my covering my neck in Estonia.

"Did you pack my scarf?" I said dryly, taking my hair down again.

"Why didn't I think of that," he muttered, searching for my chunky, loose-knit scarf that didn't match anything else I'd packed. I didn't sigh too heavily because I was also reminding myself that he was only being so ridiculous because he loved me enough to try to keep a vampire from thinking of biting me.

Which was rather nice of him, really.

So he finished stuffing my scarf in just in time for us to catch our portkey and we were in the alleyway behind our hotel in Tallinn.

"Let's check in, then," Charlie said, dropping the portkey and taking my hand in his.

Once we were settled in our hotel room, we had three hours until we had to meet Mikko at his manor just outside the city proper. He claimed to have important news. In those three hours we had to eat, rest, and plan. Charlie, on the other hand, seemed to think it was a good time to snog. I had to admit, it was a hard offer to turn down, even though we had so little time.

"I'll bet Bill and Emma are snogging right now," Charlie countered when I told him we had stuff to do. I snorted.

"They're probably either shagging or sleeping," I sighed.

"Hey, there's an idea," Charlie whispered against my ear, wrapping his arms around me.

"What has gotten into you?" I demanded, trying not to let him see that I was a bit unsteadied by his words and behaviors.

"I love you," he said calmly, kissing my jaw. "Isn't that enough?"

But I knew he was nervous about seeing the vampire. I was too, but I didn't want Charlie knowing it.

"Tell you what," I sighed, "if you finish up what we have to do, then we can snog a bit before we go, all right?"

"Mmm," he moaned, "yes, ma'am."

We had food brought up to us and we discussed our strategy over dinner, and Charlie seemed anxious to be multi-tasking. I laughed at him, which he didn't take too well, but when we finished plans and dinner, Charlie practically jumped across the table and tackled me to the floor. I giggled, wanting to both smack myself for giggling and snog Charlie's face off.

"Promise me," Charlie muttered between kisses, "that you won't ever leave me?"

"Of course," I muttered, laying back and letting him explore my neck and jaw with kisses. Why would I ever leave him?

"I don't want to lose you, Valley," he murmured, running his hands up under my shirt. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm not leaving," I reminded him, tilting my head back as far as I could to give him better access to my neck. "Charlie," I whimpered. "Charlie, we're going to have to leave sooner than you'd think and I need to change."

"Are you really going to wear that dress?" Charlie moaned.

"You love that dress," I reminded him.

"Not... Not with him there," Charlie snarled.

"Don't get into a fight with a vampire, please," I moaned. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"You think I can't take him?" he said indignantly.

"Did I say that?" I said diplomatically, getting up, peeling off my sundress to distract him. It worked. He sat up eagerly, watching me walk across to our bags. "What I'm saying is that I don't want you getting hurt. Take that as you will."

Charlie crawled toward me, pressing his lips to the ticklish spot behind my knee as I pulled on the dress for our meeting. I fought back another giggle as he moved from there, placing kisses up my thigh.

"I'll keep that in mind," he muttered grumpily as his face met with the falling hem of my dress. "I suppose I'd better get changed, too, then."

"Good idea," I teased, making to put my hair up before I remembered how upset Charlie had been when I'd gone to put it up earlier. Instead I arranged it so that it covered my neck as best as it could.

As soon as we were ready to go, we walked the path to Mikko's manor, which was coming to be quite familiar. Charlie was clearly anxious and he gripped my hand tighter than he had to, but I pretended not to notice. It would have only made things worse.

The manor was located at the end of a long, rose-bush lined gravel drive, just thick enough for the thin European cars, not that anyone ever drove a car up it, but apparently it was the fashion. Charlie and I neared the gate toward the end of the drive, with its intricate, delicate wrought-iron design. I started nibbling on my lip self-consciously and Charlie leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Relax, Valley. You look beautiful and we know what we have to do. Everything's fine."

Easy for him to say.

One of the servants greeted us at the gate, leading us to the sitting room on the second floor. Mikko had three sitting rooms, but the second floor one, apparently, was his favorite for greeting us. I'd made the mistake of ogling at the paintings when he gave us the house tour and he took us to that same room every time after.

Charlie settled down, moving his chair as close to mine as he could manage, but they were awkward chairs for sitting beside someone else, which I was sure Mikko had done on purpose. He loved riling up Charlie almost as much as he loved watching my neck.

Mikko greeted us warmly, or as warmly as could be expected from a rich, vampire aristocrat. He didn't sit, of course. For some reason, he much preferred to stand.

"I see you got my message," he said, gesturing the servant to offer us wine. I accepted the wine, but Charlie waved it away. He wanted to keep his wits about him, which I thought was a very good idea. Mikko, of course, was not drinking wine, but I didn't really want to think about that.

"Of course," Charlie said as I took a sip of the sweet red wine. It was quite good wine, and growing up on my mother's liquor cabinet, I was well-versed in good wine.

Mikko waved the servant away and locked the door.

"There's been a representative visiting me from the Death Eaters," he said smoothly. "Someone named Malfoy, looked like he didn't have a drop of blood in him."

Charlie's fists clenched at the mention of Lucius Malfoy, and I very nearly shivered. The man practically owned England, what with his own enormous wealth, the wealth of his wife's family, and the influence he was able to garner both from his wealth and the ease with which he maneuvered everyone into his will, including the Minister of Magic.

"He's very persuasive," I said softly, a statement of fact more than a question, but I knew Mikko would take it as a question and it was meant as such. A prompt, at the very least.

"Not persuasive enough, my dear," Mikko said proudly in his strong Finnish accent. "But I'm afraid we're not getting in the middle of your war. The vampires have no interest in wizarding affairs beyond what benefits us, and we see no clear benefit in it for us."

Charlie frowned.

"So you're just going to let Dumbledore go out without your help?" Charlie hissed. "Some friend you are."

"I understand the concerns better than my comrades, I assure you, Mr. Weasley," Mikko said coldly. "Do not mistake me as the unsympathetic one. But I cannot commit my kind without their approval. That is not to say I cannot help you."

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows.

"Your Lord Voldemort," Mikko said casually, "has great interest in the werewolves in the Black Forest. He already has a solid hold on the werewolves in England, through Fenrir Greyback, but it will be more difficult, he will find, to gather together the larger werewolf camp in Europe than he would have expected. Even Greyback won't be able to sway them."

I raised my eyebrows.

"So, do you mean you have some measure of control over the Black Forest werewolves?"

"Valerie, darling," he said with a predatory grin that bared his teeth enough to showcase his fangs, "to say that the werewolves are capable of governing themselves would be like saying that goblins don't fight dirty. The trick is in making them think they're independent, as with all governing, really. It's all about subtlety, my dear." I nearly shivered at the way he looked at me, but then he turned to Charlie and said, "Mr. Weasley, I ask that you look over some maps with me. They're down the hall. Valerie needn't trouble herself with them. I think you're the one familiar with the area."

Charlie stiffened. He had a dilemma, and I could see just as clearly as he what it was. He didn't want to offend Mikko or mess up something for the Order, but he also didn't want to leave me alone in that room. He must have decided that it would be worth the risk as long as Mikko was with him, and he nodded, following the vampire out of the room.

I had to admit, without Mikko in the room it seemed warm and pleasant, something I wanted to explore. I held my wine, sipping it as I went up to a painting of a winter landscape on the wall opposite of me. The brushstrokes were lovely, and I found myself wanting to write an article on Mikko's art collection.

"It's a very nice painting, isn't it?"

I jumped at Mikko's voice, much closer to me than I would have thought. He moved so silently, it was terrifying. I whirled around, not wanting my back to him, and saw that he was alone.

"Yes," I managed to say without stuttering. "Where is Charlie?"

"He is examining some maps," Mikko said with another smile that bared his fangs. "He shouldn't be long, but I couldn't stand the thought of you in here alone, unentertained."

"I assure you," I said softly, thinking about how little space I had to back up before I hit the wall, "that I am certainly more than capable of entertaining myself."

"Of course, forgive me," he said, taking a step closer, prompting me to take a step back. "It's just that I was raised that it is impolite to force a lady such as yourself to entertain herself."

Another step forward, another step back.

"A lady such as myself?"

Another step forward and I backed myself clean up against the wall. That smile was certainly predatory.

"Beautiful, charming," Mikko said as though he was discussing the weather, "cultured, brave."

I wasn't brave. I knew that about myself. It was why I was the only person in the whole family who was a Hufflepuff. I took after my mother that way, willing to keep my mouth shut when I could get away with it. I wondered what Joss would do in my place, a vampire backing her against a wall and coming ever closer. She would probably pull out some of her fabulous Defense skills and put him in his place. I didn't have that sort of skill, and it didn't help that I didn't know where Charlie was.

"I'm afraid you don't know me very well," I began softly, trying to think of a way out.

"No, he's got you down perfectly," Charlie said, coming in with a snarl on his face. "You're all of those things, but you forgot one little thing, Mikko."

"What is that?" Mikko said, obviously unhappy that Charlie had returned sooner than he thought.

"She's mine," Charlie snapped rushing across the room and putting his arm around my waist. "And we're leaving now, thank you."

Mikko's eyes flashed dangerously, but he just watched as Charlie led me away from Mikko, out of the manor, and down the gravel drive.

"That lying scum," Charlie snarled. "He said he was grabbing a map he'd left in another room and I believed him until he didn't come back. I don't know what Dumbledore sees in that man."

"He sees someone with enough power to get things done," I sighed. "And that's what we need. Sometimes you have to associate with less than tasteful people to accomplish what you need done."

"I know that," Charlie sighed. "Still, do you think Dumbledore would be too put out if I did away with him?"

I rolled my eyes. Getting mad at Felix was one thing, but going up against a vampire was another matter altogether. He would likely get himself killed, and I certainly wouldn't take well to that. I didn't think Dumbledore would either.

"I wouldn't advise it," I said dryly. "As long as we don't have to go back there again I'll be happy."

"Oh, don't worry about that," he assured me darkly. "We're not coming back here again. The sooner I get you out of Mikko's grasp the better, and I'm not about to bring you anywhere near him again."

I couldn't argue that. I wanted out of there as much as he did. To show him that I appreciated it, I curled up against him as best I could as we walked, knowing that Charlie was too tense to really think straight.

When we got back to the hotel room, I pressed my lips to his, feeling his surprise as he stiffened first, then relaxed and pulled me closer, working into the kiss with the usual passion.

"What was that for?" he said breathlessly as we pulled away for air.

"For protecting me," I said, nuzzling my nose against his neck. "I was really scared."

Without warning, Charlie actually scooped me up and carried me over to the bed. He climbed on top of me, placing open-mouthed kisses along my jaw. His fingertips began gently grazing my neck and he whispered, "I'm the only person allowed to touch this, Valley. Your neck is mine," he said, kissing my neck. "Your lips are mine," he muttered, kissing my lips. "You're mine."

"Yes I am," I assured him. "And by some strange miracle, you're mine."

Charlie grinned.

We were both surprisingly tired, so we didn't even fool around, not wanting to accidentally sleep through our portkey back to Romania. Charlie took the time to write up a report for Dumbledore and send it off and then he tucked us both in for bed, holding me closer, tighter than usual, probably subconsciously afraid that I'd disappear if he let go. It wasn't the most comfortable way to sleep, but I was so thrilled at the subconscious sentiment that I didn't complain. Instead I gently kissed his chest and snuggled even closer to him, doing my best to relax enough to sleep.

When the morning came, we actually woke with plenty of time, taking a shower, sharing a quick breakfast, and gathering up our things before the portkey was ready to take us from the alley. As we were leaving the room, Charlie kissed my cheek.

"What was that for?" I asked, confused as I laced my fingers in his and let him lead me down the hall to the elevator.

"For letting me hold you, even though I knew you were uncomfortable," he said, turning a bit pink. "I needed that."

"I know," I said with a smile, kissing him gently as the elevator doors closed.

We checked out, hurried to the alleyway, found our portkey, and waited patiently for our trip away from the city of Tallinn, never to return if Charlie had anything to say about it. Before the tug behind my navel, I looked up at him and smiled, glad to find him a bit more relaxed and especially glad that I was the first thing on his mind, more important than the war, more important than his own safety, even.

Maybe I could keep him alive after all.


	38. Dealing with Bill: Emma

"William Arthur Weasley, knock it off right now! We are working, not shagging!" I told my overzealous boyfriend who couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. We were on patrol at the Department of Mysteries incredibly early on Sunday morning. Or I suppose it could be "really late". It was three o'clock in the morning though so it would have worked either way.

"But we're on patrol for another three and a half hours!" he complained. "How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself for another three and a half hours?!"

"I could put you in a Full-Body Bind if you'd think it'd help," I offered in a falsely sweet voice.

He scowled at me, "I'm being serious, Emma."

"And so am I! We're working right now! Dumbledore himself has asked us to watch the Department to make sure that no one gets inside. We need to focus on working, not getting naked. After we finish our rounds, we've got a few hours before I have to be at the hospital. I promise that if you can make it until then I will make it worth your while."

"Really?" he questioned, mildly intrigued.

I nodded.

"Use your imagination."

His eyes began to glaze over, shivering at all the sexual fantasies he was probably thinking up. I was probably going to have to learn to become some sort of ultra-flexible acrobat to keep up with this bloke's sexual appetite. I enjoyed a shag as much as the next twenty-five year old girl with a fit boyfriend, but he was obsessed. Sex was probably one of the only things he thought about on an obsessive basis. It probably went along the lines of thinking about me, sex, his family, the Order, tombs, how much he hated his job, sex, me, the upcoming war, me, Egypt, sex, pyramids, food, and sex. It was almost as if he couldn't think about anything else. My pelvis was going to start getting worn out if he didn't get a new hobby or something.

"Agreed," he finally nodded. "But if I'm not allowed to shag you for the next few hours then what are we supposed to do?"

"Watch out for Death Eaters," I rolled my eyes. "That's the entire reason that we've been asked to be here."

"Yes but we're going to have to do something other than just watch for Death Eaters," he pointed out. "We're not likely to get any Death Eaters to show up anyways. We could – Well, I guess we should talk, huh? We haven't gotten to do that for a while."

I wanted to point out the fact that we hadn't gotten to talk because he used all the time that we used to use for talking as time for sex now but I decided against it. "Is there something in particular you want to talk about?" I inquired.

He nodded slowly, "I think so."

"And that would be?" I tried to guide him towards actually making a proper conversation.

"What's going to happen," he answered vaguely.

"Would you like to be a bit more specific than that, love? What's going to happen when? What's going to happen tomorrow? What's going to happen next week? What's going to happen in March? There's a lot of time that things could happen so I need a bit more specification than that," I pointed out.

"What's going to happen when this war starts," he explained. "What impact is going to have on us?"

"Our lives or our relationship?"

"Both."

I had thought a bit about what the war would mean for us. We hadn't talked much about it, though, because that talk always seemed to make us more paranoid about the upcoming war. "I'm still going to love you, even if there's a war going on," I assured him. "That's going to change my feelings towards you, pet. I'm still going to want you in my life. I'm going to need you in my life more, actually."

"It'll be dangerous," he pointed out.

I snorted. "Dangerous? And patrolling the Department of Mysteries after hours and risking getting attacked by Death Eaters or getting sent to Azkaban is safe? Bill, we're already in danger."

"But there'll be more danger when this happens," he insisted.

"Is there something you're trying to tell me? Are you trying to tell me that when the war finally comes that you're not going to want to be with me anymore?" The idea was terrifying. He and I belonged together, especially in a war. Who else was going to listen to me rant about my worrying over Joss' safety? After this next year Jo would be out of Hogwarts and she'd surely join the Order. I'd have two little sisters to worry about, not to mention all the sleep I was going to lose while worrying about Val in Eastern Europe.

"Of course not! I just – I just want us to be ready," he explained quickly. He took a deep breath, "I love you, Emma. I just want to be sure that we're going to be ready when this happens. I want to make sure that we have the security measures in place to keep you safe. I don't want to lose you. We just need to be ready when this comes to blow that we're prepared."

"And I want you to be safe too," I pointed out. "I don't want to lose you to this war. Voldemort isn't taking any more people I love away from me. I don't care if I have to gouge his eyes out with my fingernails, I'm not going to let him hurt you. We're going to be alright. We're going to make sure that we're alright. He's not going to take us away from each other, alright? If I'm going to lose you then it's going to be of your own accord, not his."

"And who says I'm going to want to get rid of you?" he questioned with a good-natured grin. I was glad he was smiling. If he could manage that smile than that must have meant we were good, right?

I snorted, "So what? You never want to get rid of me? I highly doubt that. What are you going to do? Make me a Mrs. Weasley and make me pop out your flaming ginger children?"

"Maybe."

I rolled my eyes, "You're apparently on fairy dust."

"Would being married to me be that horrible?" he demanded, the joking gone from his voice. "Is you being my wife and the mother to my children such a laughable idea?"

"Yes," I admitted. "You're practically married to your tombs. The only reason you're sticking with a job that you hate at the bank is because after the war is over you want your old job back. You can't have a wife and kids in England if you're planning on going back to Egypt. I can't follow you there, Bill. Even after the war I still need to be here. I've still got my mother to sedate and Joss to restrain and Jo... Well, I suppose Jo might be alright on her own, but still. I can't follow you to Africa. Being your girlfriend while we were continents apart was hard enough but to be your wife while we're thousands of miles away? It's not like you would work in Egypt and pop home in England after your working day is done. And to have children go through that?" I shook my head, "We don't have a future like that. You and I would never survive a relationship like that and it wouldn't be fair to any kids we had."

"What if hypothetically I didn't go back to Egypt?" he questioned, staring off into space. "What if I stayed in England? What then?"

"It would depend," I answered honestly.

"Depend on what?"

"Why you stayed. Would you stay because you didn't want to go back to Egypt? Because you were happier here and you truly didn't want to go back? Or would you stay because of me? Would I be the one responsible for holding you back? I don't want that guilt. I don't want to be the reason you're unhappy. It's bad enough to watch you work at a job you hate but if you were at that job because of me? I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. I don't want to feel guilty for that. I want you to be happy and if you can only do that in Egypt than I don't want to be the one to keep you away from that. It wouldn't be fair to either one of us. If circumstances were different then maybe," I shrugged.

He went silent for a moment, still looking at everything in the room but me. "There's still time, you know," he eventually told me softly. "There's still time for circumstances to change."

"Maybe," I conceded. "Things would have to change a lot though. I don't know if I want the changes that'd need to happen, though. To get me to be able to go to Egypt? Mum'd have to die. I'd never be able to convince her to come with us. Or I guess she'd probably disown me for marrying a wizard so that'd be fewer things to worry about. Joss would have to be able to go without brassing off everyone in the room when she opens her mouth. She'd have to grow up a lot. Jo'd have to do alright after school was over. Val - Well, she'd be alright if she's got Tonks and Charlie to keep her in line. Then there'd be your family to deal with. Molly would never forgive me if I married you and took her grandchildren to Africa. I don't know if I could do that. I don't know if the circumstances would change enough that we'd be able to happily stay together after the war and you could go back to working at your dream job. There's no Curse-Breaking to be done in England and I don't know if I'd be able to be a Healer in Egypt. Their certification process is probably a lot different than ours and I might have to go through training again. I just don't know that all the circumstances will be able to change that much, love."

He went silent again. He reminded me of a stone statue. He looked almost cold and unmoving. I doubted that what I'd said was anything that he wanted to hear. I just wanted to try to stay as level-headed as I could about the whole situation and not have any facades about what was likely to happen when the war was over. It'd be naive to think that he was going to stay in England when he really wanted to be in Egypt. Even if he did stay in England for me then that was selfish of me. I couldn't take away his happiness just because I didn't want to let him go. I'd gotten so spoiled in the months that I had him with me that the idea of going back to a long distance relationship was unappealing to say the least. I still had time though. The war wasn't over and he wasn't leaving yet. I still had lots of time to stay with him and take advantage of the time I had left with him. It could be years until the war was over and things were relatively easy-going compared to how tense they were bound to become at the start of the war.

I kissed his cheek, not wanting us to estrange ourselves from each other when we still had time left to take advantage of each other being in the same country. I snaked my arm around his waist, trying to lighten the mood. "So what exactly have I signed myself up for after this shift if over? You're not going to ask me to do anything physically impossible, are you?"


	39. A Touch of Reality

**A/N: So sorry for the long absence! One of our writers is currently MIA, so until that time, the rest of us have decided that I, Charlotte, shall be writing Joss's chapters, just to keep things going. I know, it won't be the same, but I'm going to do my best to ensure that they're as good as they can be!**

** -C**

Never, in all my fantasies of working for the Order of the Phoenix, did I imagine that I would end up doing paperwork.

Yes. Paperwork.

Fred had thought it was enormously funny, until I threatened to keep him out of my bed for a month. Then he shut up right quick.

I really didn't know whether or not I would actually have been able to withhold for very long, anyway. That boy really did know how to be persuasive, and especially when I least wanted him to be.

"Do you ever think it's funny?" he asked, running his fingers up and down my legs as I went over the plans Bill and Tonks had given me to scan and learn every detail of. It was very hard to do with Fred on the floor, at my feet, running his fingers on my skin.

"What?" I asked, sticking my tongue out through my teeth, trying to think of anything but his hands.

"Well, I mean, Charlie and Val are probably shagging each other's brains out in Romania right now," Fred said with a shrug.

"I don't see why that's funny," I remarked. "Why time is it in Romania anyway?"

"I have no idea," he muttered, his hot breath tickling my skin as I winced, feeling him kiss my leg a moment later. "But I'm sure they're shagging nonetheless. And you know Emma and Bill are shagging. I'd be surprised if they do much of anything else, the way Bill is."

Apparently, Fred took after Bill. Or maybe they were all like that. This thought led me to wonder about Percy and I shivered, trying to wipe that particular thought from my head. Thankfully Fred just assumed that the shiver was from the kiss he'd put on the back of my knee.

"I bet George and Jo are even getting it on."

I dropped the quill I'd been using to make coded notes to myself so I'd learn the plans faster.

"_What?_" I said in my most dangerous voice. "Is your twin defiling my baby sister?"

Fred just chuckled and I flicked his ear angrily. This was no laughing matter.

"I honestly have no idea," Fred finally said, smiling against the skin of my calf. "But my point was that practically our entire clans are having sex, but you're more interested in that piece of paper than me."

We had gotten to this point because he'd snuck out of school to see me while I had some time off from work. I didn't have a lot of time off, granted, but at least I had some time to work on the Order business.

It wasn't my fault Fred couldn't entertain himself.

"Give me five more minutes and then you'll have my attention for a bit," I muttered, rubbing my temples to try to ignore the feel of his breath on my skin.

But it was too late. I couldn't concentrate on anything. I tried to run through the halls of the Ministry in my mind as I so often did just to keep myself fresh on the information, but when I closed my eyes all I could see were Jo and George rolling around on a bed. Once the idea had been planted it couldn't seem to get out.

"You don't think they're actually shagging, do you?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose, eyes still closed.

"Hmm?"

"George and Jo," I muttered, torn between mortified and incredibly turned on by the circles Fred was tracing up my legs.

"I don't know," Fred sighed. "Probably not, but if they did George wouldn't mind, that's for sure."

I did relax a bit at that. Jo hadn't seemed ready to jump George's bones the last time I'd seen them together, and knowing my sister it would take her a while to realize how much she actually liked the boy and vice versa.

But once I started to relax it was difficult to concentrate on the map even more than it had been before because Fred had noticed my lack of focus and capitalized on it, nibbling on the spot behind my knee gently, his fingers making their way up her skirt teasingly.

"Fred," I sighed. "Fred, please, I need to finish this."

"But I'm bored," he whined.

Suddenly an idea sparked in my mind.

"Fred," I said in my most seductive voice, the one that usually made him growl excitedly when I used it. "If I give you a way to preoccupy yourself until I'm ready, will you give me a bit of peace?"

He raised his eyebrows at me questioningly, grinning as his teeth tugged a bit at my skin.

I ran my fingers teasingly through his hair, half thinking of just tossing the plans to the side and looking at them later. Then I said, "I want you to go into the bathroom, strip down, and wait for me in the shower. Get it nice and warm. You know how I like it."

He growled in his throat, eyes glowing with hunger, and he eagerly relinquished my leg, kissing my nose before hurrying off to do as I'd ordered.

I half thought I should head out to the shower and forget about the map, but I did promise Albus that I'd finish and...

It was when I realized that I'd started thinking of my former headmaster by his first name I decided I could save the rest of my studying until I'd had a proper shag with my boyfriend. The Order and life and being an adult was going a bit to my head and I found myself missing the carefree nature of being a student, dating a prankster, just being able to have fun.

So I pushed the plans aside, pulled off my shirt, and began heading toward the bathroom as I worked my skirt off my hips. I could hear Fred turn on the water and my mouth began watering at the thought of him, rippling muscles, hot jets pouring down his body.

I covered the rest of the distance in two steps and tossed my bra to the side as soon as I crossed the threshold.

It took not a moment to take off my knickers and ruffle up my hair a bit before I moved the shower curtain to find Fred slightly adjusting the water, which was a bit warm.

"You're here a lot sooner than I'd thought you'd be," he said, grinning like the idiot he was, obviously not minding one bit.

"I've decided it can wait a bit," I sighed, running my fingers along the familiar, incredible planes of his body and thanking every deity I could think of for Quidditch.

I'd barely had a moment to relish the feel of his slippery, wet skin before he'd backed me into the wall of the shower and kissed me demandingly.

How could that boy make me weak in the knees so easily?

I wasn't going to let him get the upper hand so quickly. The way we'd kept our sex life spiced up for so long was by our constant struggles for dominance, sometimes scratching, biting, even rolling off the bed and onto the floor in the fight. The winner usually changed depending on the day, but we both found that it really didn't matter who won. The struggle itself was so arousing for us that by the time there was a winner we were too lost to passion to care.

Before he knew what hit him, I had put my hands on his shoulders, pushing him back to the other wall of the shower, kissing him back with fury, digging my nails into his back. He groaned into my mouth, the sound turning into vibration against the insides of my cheeks.

My knees still wobbled helplessly, but I was able to hold myself up with the effort of pushing Fred against the wall of the shower, the water running down over our bodies.

How did I ever get through the day without Fred touching me like he was doing, his hands cupping my arse demandingly?

"Fred," I groaned as he moved his lips to my neck. "Oh, Fred!"

He growled against my skin, pulling our bodies closer together as I ran my fingers through his thick, tangled, wet hair. He nibbled a spot that I knew was going to turn into a purple mark on my skin the following morning. It was a good thing he did it often enough that I could remember the spell like the back of my hand. I didn't fancy going to work with a hickey on my neck.

After about an hour in the shower, we were both nearly dead on our feet and we dried off, heading out to my bed to cuddle for a while.

"Going to tell me what your map thing is of?" Fred asked, glancing lazily over at the table.

I sighed.

"You know I can't do that," I muttered against his hard pectorals. "I've promised Dumbledore."

"He'd never know..."

"I'm pretty sure he reads minds," I groaned, absolutely seriously. Fred shivered slightly, probably thinking about what he might have been thinking about while he was last having a chat with the headmaster.

"Joss?" he said in a quiet, nervous voice I couldn't remember him using in a very long time.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you'll be careful. People... people die out there every day. I - I know you're brilliant, but so were my uncles and they..."

I perked up. I'd never heard him really talk about his uncles, but I'd known from Emma that they'd been killed during the first war, and members of the Order with our father.

"Did you know them at all?" I whispered, tracing circles on his chest.

"I was too young," he sighed, running his fingers through my hair. "But I got to hear my mother talk about them all my life. You know how it is after people die. But I think they must have been wonderful, because Dad says great things about them, too, even when Mum's not there. They were expert duelists. You know, Mum's actually incredibly quick with a wand. She learned everything she knows from them."

"I've seen her work," I snorted. "You two make a lot of sense when you see her attack pots and pans with her vigorous anger."

We both chuckled as I closed my eyes, tracing the turns of the Ministry plans on his chest, knowing he wouldn't know the difference.

"I just wish we could have more days like this," he muttered into my hair. "I feel like I never see you anymore."

I snorted.

"Maybe that has something to do with your being at school and my having work," I said dryly, frowning a little at the break in my concentration when I replied to him.

"Well, that may not be a permanent problem," he sighed, and I had a feeling from the way he said it that he hadn't fully realized he'd said it out loud.

I didn't want to know what that meant. Of course, it might be something about him being out of school in June and going into the real world with me, but from the way he said it and the fact that he said it, I knew it meant something else. But I didn't want to think about what it was. I just wanted to have him be content with him being beneath me, the smell of his skin intoxicating my senses. I could think about all my work later if I could just have him in that moment, undisturbed.

"I love you," Fred muttered, turning me over and kissing my forehead. "I need you to know that, because-"

"Nothing is going to happen," I said firmly.

"Joss-"

"Nothing is going to happen!" I cried, trying to pull away from him so he wouldn't see the tears welling up in my eyes. Fred grabbed my shoulders, however, holding me firmly in place.

"You know as well as I do what can happen to people in the Order," he said, and I could hear the tightness in his throat. He was talking about my father and I didn't want him to talk about my father. I didn't want to think about how much my world had changed when he died, although I hardly recalled him being alive.

"Don't," I choked out.

I wasn't going to die. Emma wasn't going to die. Val sure as hell wasn't going to die.

"Love, please," he sighed, pressing his forehead to mine, our noses touching. "Please don't push me away just because it hurts."

And he was right. There was so much pressure, so many things that could go wrong all around me, all the time. I didn't want to think about the things that hurt, and if that meant keeping Fred and arm's length away from my pain, so be it.

But at the same time, I knew it was wrong. It had been one of the things that had frustrated me about Emma growing up, trying to keep us from knowing the things that made her cry without seeming reason. How were we supposed to make it stop if we didn't know what was wrong? I hadn't known then that they weren't things I could blow up with my very limited control over my young magic, but I still wished she would have told me.

"It's hard," I whispered. "I... I wish you could just know because it's so hard to think about things, much less talk about them. Fred, I really don't want to talk about my dad."

"I know," he said, his usually twinkling and mischievous eyes full of concern. "I know. Bill says Emma doesn't like to talk about it either. I understand. But I also want you to realize how terrified I am of losing you."

It was touching, really. If I hadn't been such a mess of emotions I would have likely wondered when and why we'd succumbed to being so sappy like everybody else.

But then, the way he wrapped his arms around me was so comfortable, so warm, that I really didn't mind the sappiness. It didn't matter. I felt right.

We cuddled and I sniffled away unshed tears until he felt asleep, arms still tightly around me. I used a bit of wandless magic to put him into a deeper sleep, allowing me to get out of his arms and go back to my frustrating work of analyzing the plans.

It was difficult to focus with Fred looking so sweet and peaceful on my bed, but I really did need to finish memorizing.

I pulled the plans in front of me, swallowing the lump in my throat as best as possible, and returning to the corner of the plan I'd been working on while Fred had had succeeded in distracting me.

The bit I couldn't quite figure out was the Department of Mysteries and their ever-changing doors. How was I supposed to be sure the room I wanted was the one I was looking after if the doors kept changing? Tonks had assured me that I would know, but from the plans it all looked identical. They moved the doors and rooms even as I watched the plans, to simulate the feature.

There had to be a spell, a trick, some way the people in the Department of Mysteries could be sure they were opening the right door when they opened it. It would be silly if they wasted so much of their work day just trying to find the right room. Then it went from being a security feature to actually confirming that everyone in the department is completely barmy.

Fred gave a sweet little snore in his sleep and I turned to look at him, mind still racing with possible ways they could get the right door. He was feeling around a bit like he was trying to find something.

I caught my breath and realized that he was looking for me. I felt a stab of guilt as I realized that it probably wasn't just because we'd been cuddling moments prior. He probably felt around for me a lot in his sleep, considering how often we'd slept in each other's arms while I'd still been at school. I wished I could have wrapped him around me every night, making sure he never had to feel around an empty bed.

Because what I didn't want to think about was how right he was. I could die any time. I hadn't exactly picked low-risk work or associations, and there was a war about to explode in all our faces as soon as Voldemort could no longer hide his miserable arse somewhere discrete and carry out his plans. The likelihood of my death, considering the numbers for the previous Order, was actually disgustingly high. And in a year, Fred's would likely be so as well. Which one of us was going to be spending the rest of their lives feeling around an empty bed?

I pushed that thought out of my mind. It wouldn't change either of our behavior or choices to think about the fact that we might very well die, so what was the point in making myself depressed?

I finished with the plans as well as I could without knowing what to do about those revolving doors and then I moved back to my bed, checking the time. Just a few more hours before Fred had to sneak back to school. I curled up in his arms, snuggling closer to him as he contented a bit.

"Good," I sighed, almost relieved that he recognized my body in his arms. "It's all okay. I'm right here."


	40. Can You Hear The Horses?: Jo

Can you hear the horses?: Jo

_Love is a Battlefield _Chapter 40

Besides the entire debacle surrounding the toady terror that was Dolores Umbridge, what I was not expecting from my senior year at Hogwarts was to feel like this.

Or rather, not feel.

In general, the amount of care I gave about everything was significantly less. Which is a bit funny when you're supposed to live it up your last year.

It might have been the workload—it was about the same as Sixth year, but the teachers were more harsh and peevish, a sentiment exasperated by Umbridge's snobby interference during the new High Inquisitor inspections. I got exasperated more easily, had less tolerance for stupid gits or stupid Ministry workers poking noses where they shouldn't. I just want to sleep, to get my bloody work done, to not have to bother. _And Professor Umbridge was getting in my way._

How was I supposed to pass N.E.W.T.s without practice? "Wands away" my arse! We'd be decimated come June. Just you see.

Most of the younger students stayed away from Seventh Years. I hadn't really noticed before, but now when I stalked the halls, I noticed younger students taking in my raccoon eyes and bedraggled, unkempt hair and backing up a few paces. Our free periods and weekends were certainly no longer free, and sometimes it felt like I was just dragging my body in a closed loop of Gryffindor Tower, Great Hall, and classrooms. None of my friend groups were getting out much.

Hermione braved approaching us one morning towards the end of September. The Twins, Lee, and I were numbly eating breakfast. She slid down away from Potter to sit next to Lee, Gryffindor tie impeccable, hands clasped together like a woman with a business proposition. From across the table I blinked at her owlishly.

"Good morning," she said.

"Is it morning?" Fred mumbled. "I'd lost track." He listlessly chewed some bacon, letting it loll in his mouth.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. George yawned, "The sun just keeps moving around and around, yet we never go down."

Hermione's eyebrows were threatening to disappear into her hairline, so I attempted to explain, "Professors Snape and McGonagall—"

"In their infinite wisdom and vested interest in keeping us alive until June," Lee interrupted. He picked up a mug of coffee and attempted to chug it, but ended up choking. He slammed the mug down and spluttered, pounding on his chest to force it down.

"They both assigned 6 foot long essays, both due this morning at 10," I finished. I signed and leaned against George. He was still so _warm,_ and I was so _tired_. It was 10:15 now, and we had just managed to slip the papers in the mail slots of both Professors' office doors, despite the two places almost being on opposite ends of the castle.

"And—to put icing on this disaster of a cake—they _both _said_, _that we better be in class today or they will give us automatic Trolls on our assignments," Fred added. He was probably the most awake out of all of us.

Hermione looked a little pale, but tried to defend the blighters anyway, "Well, I suppose they will have a lot of grading to do."

"Well, I hope they rot in piles of graded papers," I muttered bitterly. "This is mad."

Hermione leaned forward at this, speaking to us quietly. "But I bet Umbridge doesn't assign much."

There was a collective groan. This was, of course, a hot topic with us. Because, really, the one year it would have been helpful to have a solid defense teacher is the one we get the one potentially less useful than Lockhart. Literally no one in our entire year liked her, even the Slytherins. She simply wasn't giving us the preparation we needed to pass the exams that could determine our future career choices for the rest of our life. Nothing major.

"I know that look: Granger has something up her sleeve. Whatever it is, we're in," Fred said. The promise of mischief seemed to have sparked life back into him, and he leaned forward and grinned to show off his canine teeth—that was a Weasley Twin smile that usually preceded major rule breaking.

I had been mostly chumming it with the twins this year. George was too good of a pillow to leave for long. I didn't want to think of the reasons—at least the strange magnets had died down as if satisfied—and none of my other friends had commented so far. And I saw Katie and Angelina and Alicia in the Common Room, didn't I? And before bed. It wasn't like I was completely ignoring them.

Hermione was speaking again, "Harry has agreed to head a defense club. He had the most on the ground experience against Voldemort, and Ron and I were thinking he could probably teach us the spells to use in a fight. We're going to have the first meeting at the Hog's Head next Hogsmeade weekend."

When she said this, I had two reactions. The first was look at that, Granger going against the rules. Pride welled up that Hermione had come far from the friendless first year with bushy hair and buckteeth. Now she was a young woman breaking stupid school rules for a just cause, bless her Gryffindor heart.

My second reaction was that this plan was brilliant.

Lee perked up from his coffee as well, sitting up and marveling at the fifth year. Even though I couldn't see his face from my position of leaning against his shoulder, I felt George form his own mischievous Weasley twin grin. "We'll be there."

"Do you want us round up any other seventh years?" Fred asked. "I know a few who might be interested."

Though smiling faintly at our interest, Hermione was still looking pale. "I thought we should keep this first meeting relatively quiet, you know, since Umbridge…." She trailed off.

"Will likely have our heads," I said. I sat up: I definitely wanted in on this plan. "I agree." Hermione nodded, looking at little relieved. The Weasley Twins had great ability to attract attention to themselves, and this ability would only hurt a secret club. It was important that they kept this secret. "I think Katie, Alicia, and Angelina will want in and I trust them enough for it, but no one else near our year."

"Ooo, Hermione you've attracted a Wilde's attention." Fred winked. "She's more dangerous then us and not nearly as nice."

I smiled at Hermione as I wandlessly enchanted three strips of Hogwarts bacon to form a gag against Fred's mouth. He immediately tried to pry them off, but only managed to work himself into a coughing fit. "Shut up, Weasel, and breathe through your nose."

~0~

I walked out of the Hog's Head almost blinded with fury. I held the door open for the twins and a few others, but then slammed it in Smith's face as he attempted to walk out. It was still windy out, and I let my magic seep into the wind, letting it bluster and blow and whip my robes as I made to catch up with my friends.

This Defense Club was going to be brilliant. Fantastic. Exactly what we needed to pass N.E.W.T.s and survive the war and bloody well begin a teaching career if we bloody wanted because surely even seventh years could give Harry fucking Potter some pointers.

Which is why I was not going to let Zacharias bloody Smith muck it up. And all those other pig-headed non-believers.

Who the hell would lie that the Dark Lord, the one who killed their parents, sent them to some Muggle berks, had returned? If anyone stopped and looked and talked and _met_ Harry, they would know the lad was not the lying sort. The anger behind his eyes was real enough. I would be ready to tear down the Leaky Cauldron if nobody believed I had seen Cedric die, especially after I had explained it to them until I was blue in the face.

Then again, right now I was ready to tear down and set fire to any sort of important Wizarding building for the stupidity I had witnessed back in the pub.

I gave up my attempt to really catch up with the Twins, Lee, and the girls who we had invited because I really wanted to hang back, keep away from their talk. I was too seething to talk. I had to _do_ something, _break_ something, and I knew the people in front of me were not the ones who deserved it. My emotions were probably on my face, so I put my cloak's hood on to hide it. Knowing a certain someone, he would probably—

Merlin damn it, George!

The twin had slowed his step and was now beside me, letting the group go ahead. I steadily did not look at him: instead I concentrated on the trees in front of us. We were winding past the houses and shops of Hogsmeade and towards the circle of forest guarding the Shrieking Shack. I made the wind go towards the trees, riling restless past us and roaring into the trees, orange and red autumn leaves ripping off, branches shaking like raised fists.

He began quietly, so the others wouldn't hear. "Jo—"

"Where did you get a sword, Weasel?" I interrupted. Fred had pulled one out during the meeting, so I assumed George had one. Deflect and distract, that was the name of the game. Just like with Mum.

"Joke shop secret," George immediately replied, leaning in conspiratorially. "It may or may not deflate into rubber after thirty minutes."

"Uh-huh." I said. I smiled a little, to hide the anger. "Are those big black bags Fred and you are carrying full of these not-rubber swords?"

"We want to test them out, and the Shack is a pretty undisturbed area, as you know…. There's also an ashwinder nest we've been keeping in the kitchen fireplace."

"Mmmhmm. And is this ashwinder nest any sort of legal?" Back in third year, Joss and I had explored the Shrieking Shack and knew it was perfectly safe, not even a whisper of a ghost. We had trudged home that night completely disappointed.

If I could just keep George talking, we would reach the Shack, and he and his brother would likely excuse themselves and I could slip away with the girls without George knowing anything…. The rest of the group was out of earshot of us, and I sped up to catch them, George matching my stride easily.

"Jo, look at me."

I kept walking, not looking at him. He stopped. I had reached the trees: the rest were probably already at the Shrieking Shack.

"Jo, wait," he caught up and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back, away from the others. "My bird, talk to me."

Merlin's beard, _why was this happening?_ I didn't want to talk to him about how I was feeling or any sort of drivel like it! Berk! I spun around to face him, wand out, face probably murderous, my anger scrawled on my face as clear as neon pink ink.

My nostrils flared, and my fingers tingled on my wand. "_What do you want, George?_"

He looked at me, stunned. He held his hands up, palms empty. "You really do have an angry streak. You should have that looked into, you know."

"Just leave it, George."

"No, _you_ leave it. You can't keep doing this: whenever you're upset, you get violent and shut me out. How am I supposed to help you, if you don't—"

"Who says I want your help? Huh, George? Huh? I feel like you just gave yourself that position and didn't bother with my say-so."

Now, he was getting angry. His shoulders stiffened, and his blue eyes seemed to glow dangerous. He lowered his hand. "I seem to recall you liking it."

"I—!" I didn't have anything to say to this. My anger at Umbridge was getting all mucked up and confused, dissolving into the feelings I didn't want to deal with about George. I hadn't wanted to talk to George because I knew this would happen! I wanted to do something about the war, about Voldemort and Harry and not concerning this prankster.

My wand trembled, and I lowered it. George was not the target: he didn't deserve my anger. Tersely, I spit out a fraction of the truth, just so he would go away, "I'm upset at Smith for calling Harry a liar. Umbridge is bint who needs to be stopped. She's useless at Hogwarts."

George's anger did not waver, but rather crackled, his hands lowering to his sides as fists. "You're planning something," he said. "Tell me what it is. I want in."

"I'm not planning anything!" I shouted, which of course revealed that I was planning something since I was so touchy about it. Merlin damn. I took a breath and closed my eyes. "And wouldn't your twin want a say in this?"

"Fred and I have our own plans."

"Oh yeah, and you're not letting me in on that. Hypocrite."

"I'm not a hypocrite," George snarled. Snarled. He actually snarled at me. "I'm worried about you because this is the face you have when you're about to tear our Common Room to unrecognizable shreds without even using your bloody wand!"

"I'm not angry at you or the Common Room!" I shouted back. I took a step forward, towards him. "How will I get this into your thick skull? I want to do something about Umbridge and it will be perfectly safe and I don't want your help. That woman is harming the school."

"You-you confuse the hell out of me," George seethed, taking a step towards me. "One minute it's like we're together and the next you want to pitch me off the Astronomy Tower."

"Cause that's how it is!" Why were emotions so difficult! I should have never hung out with the Twins, never let this develop and change, this…this _thing_.

I didn't want it, but I wanted it.

Before I could think, I didn't. I marched up to George, grabbed a fistful of his robes. He pulled away, hands going to mine. Unamused, he said, "Jo, what the hell are you—"

Before he could finish, I Apparated us to be against the nearest tree, the resultant whip crack echoing out, like a tree falling. "Shut up," I said quietly. "Listen to me."

He quieted and I willed my eyes to glow daggers at him, to communicate how serious I was. My voice still sounded like it was about to break. "I don't want you to die."

George's whole being went still. His eyes seemed to go wide, his breath a little labored. I closed my eyes and leaned in a little, breathing in the charms and cashew smell. "Umbridge and the Ministry, with their incompetence, are endangering you. We need to be prepared for this war. I'm doing this on my own. I won't have you slaughtered."

I let him go. He just stood there, saying nothing.

I walked away.

~0~

The next Monday, I skipped Defense Against the Dark Arts class because who the hell actually cared. I was being more productive anyway.

Umbridge stepped out of her class unsuspecting. Her step over the threshold activated a bucket of sticky, shimmering rainbow paint to topple over onto her person. Umbridge spluttered red with anger and attempted to remove the paint. Her counter spell removed the paint from her robes, but her head and hair were drenched in sparkly rainbow. She sought out Madam Pompfrey in the Hospital Wing while students whispered and marveled all the way. Laughter—both magical and normal—followed her in the hallways, and fart noises erupted from castle corners when she passed. When Madam Pompfrey took a look at her predicament, the mediwitch explained that the paint was actually tattoo ink, guaranteed to painlessly stain any and all human cells it came in contact with. It was popular among the smokers and drinkers at Hogwarts, and the ink could only removed with a patented counter spell owned by Zonko's Emporium, which had already closed for the day. Irate, Umbridge threatened poor Poppy with Ministry inspection, which was an unfortunate consequence. On her way back to her office in order to send an impertinent owl, she passed the Great Hall, again followed by laughter and fart noises no matter who she docked points from. A huge crowd was gathered around where she posted Educational Decrees, and she went to see what the fuss was about, gasping when she saw the result. The signs had been rearranged to say, "LEAVE, TOAD," blinking and flashing their message, a portrait of Umbridge switching between images of her with human and amphibian features. The mob instantly disappeared after witnessing her resultant fury as she tried to tear down the portrait and signs, but they were glued with a Sticking Charm and Zonko's Imperious Wizard Glue.

She shrieked for Filch, who would be up until 2am cleaning up the job since once he removed the signs, layers of messages berating Umbridge, the Ministry, and his actions appeared, each written in Gryffindor red ink. The last message for all of these advertised Jo Wilde's candidacy for Prime Minister.

Umbridge, desperate at this point, charged toward the safety of her office, though her rainbow head had attracted the attention of Peeves, who was now rhyming, blowing raspberries, and generally feeding the fire. The first step to her office door sucked in her foot. When she removed her foot with the counter spell, the stair coughed up a rainbow tattoo ink stained bare foot and chewed up high heel. Unfortunately, the last step did the same, but for her other foot.

With a final, loud fart, she opened her office. For a minute she thought it was on fire, but it was just dungbomb smoke, and she gagged at the skunky smell. With a wave of her wand, she cleared the air, the vile stuff rushing past her, but the force of a spell attaching itself to her face made her stumble. Something was gnawing tiny holes in her skin with tiny little biting mouths. She screamed and stumbled forward back into her office where her pain was forgotten in horror of the wreckage before her. Every single cat plate now featured an ugly, knobbly, wart-infected toads wearing pink bows, all pooping and slurping up worms. Ripped up parchment, forms, and quills littered the floor like a snow bank, and any essays visible underneath the clutter had huge A+s scrawled on top. Ink bottles stained carpet, magazine pages were stuck to the stall, it still smelled of skunk, cabinets and drawers were upended or kicked in. She didn't know this yet, but her desk drawers were filled with spiders and a particularly underfed snake, who had been infused with enough magic to have tripled in size and be imperious to the more commonplace vanishing spells.

And there, hands behind my head, feet upon the desktop on which I had scratched "Voldemort Lives" I sat, cool as a cucumber, a single canary on my shoe. When she spotted me, I grinned, showing off my teeth.

"Were you looking for me, High Inquisitor?"


	41. Do Not Open Until - Aw, What the Hell: V

**A/N: Val's POV**

Charlie was sitting at the window while I made tea, reading a letter from Bill. He'd read it three times and was frowning deeper every time. I brought the tea over to him, pressing his cup into his hand firmly before sitting on his knee.

"What is it?" I asked. "Something's bothering you, I can tell."

"It's your sisters," Charlie muttered, sipping his tea. "The Order's got them working on things and Bill's having fits. Sounds like Fred's none too pleased about it, either, but he's got a lot less say, still being in school and all. But I suppose they can take care of themselves."

"You're not really worried about my sisters," I said, matter-of-fact. "You're worried about me."

"Always," Charlie said with a sad sort of smile, setting the letter aside and pulling me closer to him. I rested my head on his shoulder. "Are you sad we can't go to the Burrow for Christmas?"

"To be honest," I sighed, "I think it will be nice for us to spend Christmas alone together. At least for the first one. Maybe we can go to England next year, if you don't have work. How's that sound?"

"Sounds perfectly fair and absolutely lovely," he muttered, kissing my hair before smelling it like he loved to do. "What do you want for Christmas?"

I smacked him playfully. He just chuckled, finishing off his tea so he could hold me with both arms as we snuggled.

"How was your interviewing?" he said, smiling as I pulled my legs up onto his lap, cuddling close to him as I recalled doing with my father as a child. I wondered if it was strange of me, associating my boyfriend with my father, but I tried not to think about it. No point in spoiling a perfectly cozy moment.

"It was fine," I sighed, kissing his neck before wrapping my arms around it. "Same usual boring drivel that doesn't have a prayer of hitting anything better than the last quarter of the paper, but I suppose it's worth it."

"What is?" Charlie asked, cocking his head to the side like a puppy.

"You," I said in a teasing voice I liked to copy Tonks's. Charlie seemed to like when I used it, too, and I kissed his lips as lightly as humanly possible and pressed my forehead against his. "I'd rather be here with you and have you than be some big shot reporter in London like my mother wants me to be."

"Well, I'm certainly more than happy that you're here," Charlie muttered, nuzzling his nose against mine. "You know what I want for Christmas?"

I already knew that he wanted a new jacket without any burn holes in it, which was what I'd gotten him, along with copious amounts of his favorite sweets, but that didn't seem to be what he was getting at, so I tilted my head coyly and said, "I'm not sure. What do you want, love?"

"I want you," he said in that low, husky voice that let me know he was turned on. I couldn't exactly figure out what had turned him on so much, except for maybe smelling my hair. For some reason, that just about did it for him every time.

At first, I wasn't sure if that was his way of asking for something in particular or not, but I decided after a minute of his snuggling his face against my neck that slow had gone slow enough and we were done with creeping along at snail's pace. I shivered as I realized that it was his way of asking to shag on Christmas.

I bit my lip as his lips nuzzled against my collarbone. I couldn't put off the act forever. After all, I wanted to marry him. We'd been together long enough to prove that he wasn't just going to run away after sex and never speak to me again. He'd been the one to make the relationship committed, the one to officially bring up being in a relationship. I wasn't going to be any more ready if I wanted another twenty years. It didn't seem unreasonable at all to let him lead me down that unfamiliar path now that he was actually asking with veiled hints.

"Why wait until Christmas?" I finally managed to say in a breathy voice. Charlie halted his ministrations to my collarbone, obviously wondering if I meant what he thought I meant or if it was his horny mind interpreting my words in the way it wanted them to be meant.

I didn't want to give him time to second guess himself out of it, though, so I lifted his chin so that he was looking in my eyes and I nearly shivered at the passion and desire I saw in his eyes. Without hesitation I pressed my lips to his, allowing him to immediately take control of the kiss, pouring in all of his passion and desire until I actually moaned into his mouth, my fingers raking through his hair hungrily.

"Charlie," I moaned eagerly when he pulled away from my mouth finally to begin kissing down my neck once more.

He growled softly against my skin, standing without warning, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me to the bed. He'd done that before, but never with so much desperate tension in the air. I knew that once he finished pulling off my clothes, there would be no turning back. We'd reached that threshold a hundred times before, but this time was different. This time it was like the only threshold was the final one, and there was no point in stopping before that.

The way he paused to take in my bared body was familiar but somehow sexier than before and I could feel myself actually aching for him to touch me, to do something other than look at me with his dark, hungry eyes. To remind him what we were doing, I reached up and unbuttoned his shirt swiftly, tossing it aside as quickly as I could before he pushed me back onto the bed and began kissing every part of me he could reach. I giggled in spite of myself, being incredibly ticklish, and the giggling turned to sighs as his desperation melted into tender and controlled kisses and caresses. He paused the caresses just long enough to rid himself of the rest of his clothing, but he didn't stop kissing my skin. I probably would have made a protest if he had, it felt so deliciously good. When his body was pressed against mine, he began kissing my neck. Between kisses he whispered, "This might hurt a bit at first, Val. I'm going to make it hurt as little as possible, okay?"

I nodded. Tonks had already told me that quite a while ago when she'd had her first.

"Charlie," I moaned again, seemingly unable to think of anything else to say as he began kissing his way down my body again, pausing occasionally to tend to a spot that he knew would make me squirm with pleasure before continuing downward.

It took me by surprise when he buried his head between my thighs, looking up at me with dark passion in his eyes as his tongue and teeth did things I didn't even think were possible. It didn't take long at all for me to squirm and gasp with pleasure, bucking my hips against his face as his hands worked around to grab my ass, holding me as steady as he could. A little part of me was worried about hurting him, but I ignored that part because I could easily heal him and there was really no controlling my actions anyway. I was vaguely aware that I was babbling incoherently about 'more' and 'Charlie' and 'please' and 'yes', but that didn't really matter either.

I couldn't have said how much time passed before he decided that I was ready and he positioned himself, ready to enter.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing his lips against mine in an urgent kiss, thrusting forward and catching my cry of pain in his mouth.

Okay, so I'd been warned but I hadn't expected it to be quite as painful as it had actually been. Charlie froze, deep within me, letting me get used to the feel of having him filling me.

When he started to move, thrusting in and out, it hurt at first as my body got used to the sensation. Slowly, though, the pain turned to pleasure and I found myself wondering why I held off so long. It didn't take long at all for me to start babbling incoherently again, and Charlie was moaning my name right along with my babbling.

I came first, probably because Charlie had been working on me so long, but even as I rode the waves of pleasure that filled my body, Charlie didn't stop his thrusting. In fact, he thrust even more vigorously.

By the time I reached my second climax, Charlie's face was contorted and I realized he'd reached his as well, and from the feel of it, it was far more powerful than anything I'd managed to induce with my hand. He came inside me, crying out my name as I screamed, dragging my nails down his back, shocking myself when we had come down enough from the high that I realized that I'd broken the skin and drawn blood. I could feel his blood, sticky under my fingernails. Charlie was panting still, wrapping his arms around me and gently kissing every part of me he could reach without moving too much.

"That was incredible," he finally sighed, sound about as tired as I felt. "We get to do that again, right?"

"As often as you want," I said breathlessly, smiling weakly at him. "That was better than I thought it would be."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he whispered, face full of worry. "I tried to be gentle-"

"Relax," I assured him, petting his pretty face gently. "I'm worried that I hurt you. Do you want me to heal your back?"

"Can you make it leave a scar?" he asked with a roguish grin. "I'd love to have scars from your passion."

I could feel the blush creeping onto my cheeks as he clutched me tighter, nuzzling his face against my neck.

"Um, I don't know that I have that sort of skill," I admitted. "And I'm not going to ask Emma. We're not that close."

"That's too bad," Charlie sighed, running his tongue along my neck. "I guess I'll have to let you heal it, then. It wouldn't do to bleed all over your sheets."

"Mmm," I managed to moan as he began placing kisses on up my jaw and cheek.

I did manage to get him to lie still long enough to heal him before he was kissing me all over again, obviously ready for round two.

By the time the sun actually went down, Charlie and I were cuddled loosely on the bed, too tired to even shift slightly, both covered in sweat, lying on sweat soaked sheets, staring up at the ceiling. My body was draped across his as we laid there and I could feel him breathing in and out rhythmically.

"I love you," he sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

"I love you, too," I replied honestly, but my exhaustion took away some of the sincerity in my voice. At least he knew I meant it.

"You didn't use a spell, did you?"

I blinked.

"What spell?"

"Contraception Spell."

"Ah, no. No, I didn't."

"Oh."

"That's probably not good."

"I guess not. Are you on a Muggle contraceptive?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Yep."

"Well," Charlie sighed, "what would we do if you got pregnant?"

"I don't know," I said honestly, feeling that the gravity of the situation wasn't able to seep through my tired state. "What would you want to do?"

"I'd like a little mini you," Charlie said with a happy sort of voice. "A little baby girl, just like her mother, pretty smile and tiny little hands. There'd be a problem with that, though."

"What's that?"

"I'd let her get away with murder," he said with a small chuckle that jostled me about a bit more than his breathing did. "I don't think I could say 'no' to a little girl looking just like you."

"What if it was a boy?" I asked, still not really thinking about the actuality of what might happen were I to get pregnant.

"I'd still hope he looked like you," Charlie said in a sheepish sort of voice.

"I think his dad's pretty handsome," I muttered sleepily. "I wouldn't mind a little boy that looked like you, but I'd probably let him do whatever he wanted."

We both laughed a bit at that.

"So what would we do?" he asked as I rolled over and shifted slightly, using up all my energy so that I was lying on top of him, my face level with his. "I mean, if I got you pregnant right now, would you want to get married?"

I blinked down at him.

Marriage. It wasn't that it wasn't something that I hadn't wanted or thought about. In fact, I'd spent years dreaming of marrying Charlie Weasley, but somehow lying on his chest covered in a mixture of our sweat, it didn't quite fit or make sense. I wouldn't be marrying him because we were madly in love and he'd come up with the perfect, most romantic way to propose. I would be marrying him because in a moment of passion we'd been stupid and he'd gotten me pregnant.

On the other hand, what if we didn't get married and something happened between us and I was left alone with the child?

Somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew that he would never do such a thing, that his mother would _never_ let him, but I didn't want him to stay with me because he had to. And I didn't want him marrying me because he had to.

"Charlie, if we get married," I sighed, "I don't want it to be because you got me pregnant. That would be all anyone would say about our wedding forever, and I would want us to get married because we love each other and can be without each other, not because we were stupid and caught up in the moment."

"Valley," he said with a half-sad sort of look, "I do love you, and I can't be without you. I'm not asking you to marry me right now, but unless something I can't even imagine happens, I'm going to marry you someday. But would you really not marry if I did get you pregnant?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "It's not the sort of thing one really thinks about or can even fully understand before it happens. Tell you what, if you get me pregnant we can continue this conversation then, all right?"

"I think that's fair," he assented, his face much brighter.

The strangeness and gravity of the whole conversation finally hit me and I resolved to be more careful about it in the future if I wasn't pregnant (which I hoped was true because I was _not_ ready to be a mother). I would have to ask Emma about contraception and be vigilant. At least until we were married.

Married. Charlie Weasley wanted to marry me, eventually. Not right away, but he'd actually said that he intended to marry me. Suddenly the anxiety I'd felt in relation to knowing that we'd been careless already about pregnancy melted away, leaving behind on the warm, fuzzy feeling about the way his hand was resting on my back and the way he nuzzled his face against mine.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you, too," he murmured back.

He fell asleep much quicker than I did, his face peaceful and happy, and I liked thinking to myself that he was dreaming of me, maybe with a little mini-me girl. It wasn't hard to picture Charlie as a father, wrapped around our daughter's finger, carrying her everywhere and jealous of anyone who even blinked at her in his place. He would spoil her rotten, and I would likely be the one doing all the disciplining, but that wasn't so different from Charlie's family, I realized. From his stories of his childhood, Arthur had let them all get away with whatever they wanted, as long as Molly didn't find out. It was very different from Emma, Joss, Jo, and me, who had pretty much raised ourselves.

What sort of mother would that make me? Would I turn out like my mother? Jo might be the one that looked like her, but I'd always been the one with her little personality quirks, even down to the high risk for alcoholism.

I hadn't realized that my hands were contracting with my anxiety right into Charlie's shoulders until he woke with a start and frowned at me.

"Valley, what's wrong? Are you feeling okay?"

"Charlie, I can't be a mother!" I hissed, terrified.

He rolled over, rolling so that we were facing each other on our sides and he brushed a bit of my hair out of my eyes.

"Val, what are you talking about?"

"I can't be a mother," I insisted, panicked. "I take after my mother! Something's going to happen. We'll have kids and you'll die and I'll be left alone to drink myself into oblivion and my children will starve or hate me and I'll forever be clinging to my lost time with you and my lost youth and... and... and I can't have children!"

"Valerie May Wilde," he admonished very seriously, "you are not going to turn into your mother. So you take after her a bit. She can't have been all bad or your father would never have married her. That's not a crime. And nothing is going to happen to me. I'm going to stay alive, especially if we have children. If we have children I'm doing everything humanly possible to stay alive for you and the children. None of those things are going to happen. You are going to be a wonderful mother of beautiful children and I'm going to grow old with you, do you understand me?"

Still in a panic, I passionately pressed my lips to his, holding his face on either side of his jaw, not caring that we were both exhausted and needed our sleep. He didn't seem to care much about that fact either because we had another round before I decided to verbally agree with him, pray that we hadn't just gotten me pregnant, and fall asleep in his arms, completely exhausted and unable to even keep my eyes open.


	42. Working Late: Emma

I felt like I was going to die as I Apparated back to my flat after a twelve hour shift at the hospital. I had five hours before I had to patrol the Department of Mysteries. My bed was calling me loudly and all I wanted to do was bury my head into my fluffy pillow and become dead to the world. My work with the hospital and the Order was important but they were both demanding.

I arrived back in my flat with a loud popping noise. I almost screamed in surprise when I saw a figure standing in the dark. I clenched my heart with one hand and my wand with the other. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?"

"I'm your boyfriend and I practically live here," I heard Bill tell me in an emotionless voice.

"Bill!" I managed to muster all the enthusiasm I could manage due to my exhaustion. "Love, I missed you."

He didn't reply. His expression was lacking any sort of emotion at all. For a moment I was beginning to worry that this was this "I'm breaking up with you" face. "You need to go back to the hospital," he eventually informed me. "Dad got bit some sort of giant snake during his round at the Department. I need you to go Heal him."

I nodded slowly. Arthur was attacked by a snake? Molly was probably in a complete panic, trying to keep it together. "Let's go."

We arrived at the hospital shortly after, ignoring the Welcome Witch who was questioning our purpose for being there. She probably didn't recognize me without my Healer robes on. We took the elevator upstairs to the first floor in silence. He'd been a little distant ever since our conversation in the Department of Mysteries but this was different than usual. I brushed it off as nerves about his father's condition and decided to ignore it.

Jane Patch was the first Healer I saw on the floor. She was directing one of the Mediwizards who brought in a patients with a greenish looking wound on his leg into one of the hospital rooms. "Jane," I greeted her hurriedly. "Where's Arthur Weasley? Middle-aged male with red hair who just got admitted with a snake bite. Where is he?"

"Emma, what are you doing here? You got off twenty minutes ago!" she pointed out.

"Working. Where's Arthur?" I demanded impatiently. Venom victims always had a sense of urgency to them. They had a short period of time in which they absolutely needed care or they weren't going to survive.

"He should be down the hall with Hippocrates ," she told me. "Watch out for his wife, though. She's a bit aggressive."

I didn't reply to her comment about Molly being aggressive. I didn't blame her. If I was in her position and it was Bill who was being treated then I wouldn't be friendly myself. Bill followed me as I led him to the end of the hall where I saw Hippocrates, the Healer-in-Charge, talking to a very distraught looking Molly. He'd recently transferred onto our floor from Artifact Accidents. "Molly, Hippocrates, what's going on?"

Molly turned to me, her face red with rage and her cheeks puffy from crying, "Emma! Emma, please, you have to make this man help Arthur! He's dying! Please! Please help him!"

I turned to Hippocrates, who was looking mildly annoyed by the situation. "Let me Heal him," I told him. "You're still new here. You haven't dealt with venom like this. He's important to me. Let me Heal him."

Hippocrates shook his head, "You can't! You're off the clock, Emma. You've worked too long. You're past your limit. I can't let you Heal any patients."

"I don't care," I informed him. "Let me Heal him. I've got the most experience with venomous snakes. Let me Heal him. We don't have time to argue about this. Give him to me or I'll take him."

He scoffed, "Emma, pet, you're a lot of things but intimidating isn't one of them. Go home. Get your sleep, calm down and maybe you'll still have a job tomorrow."

"Do not patronize me, Smethwyck. I am not the kind of person you want to cross. You're going to back off and give me this patient or I'm going to make you regret it every day for the rest of your life. Do not test me," I told him, my eyes boring into him like a hot poker out of the fire. "I can ruin you so fast that your head'll spin."

"Have you forgotten who the boss here is, Wilde? Besides, I've already given Weasley to Pye. Go home!"

"Augustus Pye? He's a bloody trainee! If you don't get out of my way and take Pye off this case right now then I will go to the Board of Directors and tell them about the special little ingredient you like to put into your morning coffee," I warned him with a glare for good measure.

He blanched, looking like a ghost, "You wouldn't!"

"Do not test me, Smethwyck. I am not a woman to be reckoned with. Get the fuck out of my way or I'll have your head on a platter so fast that you won't know what hit you," I growled.

He clamped his mouth shut, looking at me as if I'd just threatened to murder his children. I was not in a mood to beat around the bush and try to diplomatically come to a solution when Arthur's life was on the line. "Alright," he slowly nodded. "I'll give him to you if you promise not to go the Board."

I pushed past him, marching into the hospital room, "Pye, out now. He's mine."

"But I -" The trainee began to argue. He was maybe twenty years old. He had a horrible case of acne, sandy colored hair and looked like he just walked right out of Hogwarts. I wouldn't trust him to Heal a Doxy bite, let alone a snake bite.

"OUT!" I snarled at him, diverting my attention to Arthur, who was unconscious on the hospital bed. I checked for his pulse. It was faint but at least he still had one. I tore through the cupboards, searching for a vial of Blood-Replenishing Potion. The blood that was spilling out of his wound was enough to kill him.

Pye scurried out of the room, probably in terror of my wrath. I didn't blame him. I would probably terrify most people at that point of time. I ripped a vial of the scarlet colored potion out of the cupboard, practically pouring it down Arthur's throat. I needed to find the antidote for this venom but I had to make sure that he'd survive until then.

"What's happening?" Molly inquired tearfully as she and Bill ducked their heads into the room. "Is he alright?"

"He's going to be fine," I assured her. "I need Jane Patch. Bill, do you remember the Healer who told us where Arthur was? I need her. She's one of our best Healers. Please go get her."

He nodded, "I'll be right back with her." He left without another word, leaving me with an unconscious Arthur and a hysterical Molly.

"Are you sure that you can Heal him?" Molly questioned. "Are you sure that he's going to be alright?"

"If I can't Heal him then I'll find someone who can," I reassured her, corking the potion vial. "I've never had a patient I couldn't Heal and if he's the first one then I'll find someone else."

"Thank you," she sniffled. "What you said to Smethwyck took a lot of courage. Thank you for doing that for us."

"Arthur was my dad's best mate," I pointed out stiffly. "I'd never forgive myself if I couldn't save him. And I don't want you or your children to be without him either. Losing a father can be rough at any age."

"I'm here!" Jane announced, rushing through the door with Bill trailing behind her. "Tell me how to help."

"I need you to contact your brother at the Magizoological Society. See if he knows anything about the antidote. It's a large, venomous, green snake. I think it's safe to assume that it's magical in nature. Probably originates somewhere in Europe. The venom seems to be a blood thinner. I'm also going to need a very large supply of Blood-Replenishing Potions," I informed her, telling her the description of Nagini that Dumbledore had told the Order.

She nodded, "Do you want me to contact Amos first or get the potions first?"

"Amos. I fed him as much potion as we have here so he should be good for a while. I need to know everything Amos knows about any snake that could do this damage, alright?"

She nodded again, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

I took my wand from my back pocket, pointing it at Arthur's wound, "_Tergeo_." The dried blood disappeared, making the wound look much less fatal. It was still bleeding, though, making it look as if I'd never done the spell. "Shite," I muttered to myself, conjuring a bandage around the wound. I pressed down tenderly on the bandage, trying to stop the bleeding. Arthur whimpered, trying to push away my hands.

"Let go of him! You're hurting him!" Molly exclaimed hysterically, trying to pull my arms away from him. "Don't hurt him!"

"Mum, stop!" Bill came alive from his catatonic state, pulling her away from me. "Emma's saving his life! He just got bit by a bloody snake! Of course he's going to hurt!"

I felt a rush of gratitude towards him. Healing Arthur was going to be hard enough with Molly trying to rip me away from him. "Bill, take Molly up to the tea shop. Wait until she calms down and bring her back, okay?"

He nodded, dragging his protesting mother out of the room as she shrieked about not leaving Arthur's side. My head felt like it was going to burst at the scene, partially from exhaustion and partially from confusion. What kind of snake was Nagini and what could possibly be the antidote?

I'd tried nearly a dozen antidotes before Jane arrived with an armful of Blood-Replenishing Potions. She informed me that her brother, who was an accomplished Magizoologist, hadn't ever heard of the kind of snake that I was describing. He promised to do as much research as he could and talk to all the other Magizoologists who might know how to cure Arthur. She also told me that she had to get back to her own patients and that she was sorry she couldn't be of more help before she left.

All my experimenting with antidotes hadn't found me a cure for the venom but it made it very clear the venom was preventing blood clotting. It was most definitely a magical bite and finding the cure was going to be difficult. There was an advantage to that though. None of Arthur's organs or vitals seemed to be affected by the venom. It was only refusing to heal. That meant we could put him on regular Blood-Replenishing Potions until we could find a cure, which was incredibly advantageous to the other possibilities.

When Bill returned with Molly they both seemed to be as serenely calm as they could possibly be for the situation. Bill had obviously given his mother a bit of a talking to in order to make her behave. "What's the prognosis?" Molly inquired evenly.

"He's going to live. The venom's preventing blood clotting but it doesn't seem to be having any other effects. I'm going to put him on an hourly Blood-Replenishing Potion while we try to find the antidote. Over all, he could be a lot worse off. We're going to move to the 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward in the morning," I told her.

She let out a breath of relief, "Thank Merlin. Is he going to wake up soon?"

I nodded, "Soon. His body's still recovering from the shock of losing that much blood. He should come around in the next few hours. You can stay with him if you'd like."

"Are you leaving?" she questioned fearfully.

I shook my head, "Not until he wakes up and I find a suitable replacement to watch him while I'm gone. I'll wait with you until he wakes."

"I'll stay with you too," Bill volunteered. "You shouldn't have to be alone."

Molly sniffled, throwing her arms around the both of us, "Oh you two! I'm so – With Percy gone and Charlie in Romania –" She broke off into hysterical sobbing, reminding me eerily of my mother. At least she was crying about something other than her weight or graying hair.

"It's going to be alright, Mum," Bill assured her. "Emma and I are going to take care of everything. Don't worry about a thing, alright? We're going to take care of it."

I generally found myself getting annoyed when people would sign me up to do things but this time I didn't mind. Bill and I were going to take care of everything for her. Percy was refusing to speak to any of his family, Charlie was with Val in Romania, and that left the next oldest being the twins and they were still in school. Bill and I were the best she was going to get who were speaking to her and in the country. She was going to need all the help we could give and I just hoped that we'd survive giving it to her.

**A/N: **_**Charlotte**_** here! Yes, this is an **_**xyellowconverse**_** chapter, but I would just like to say that this update is dedicated to the guest reviewer, '**_**Chino**_**', whose positive review was the posting impetus for this chapter. Hope you like it, **_**Chino**_**!**

** -C**


	43. Letting Off Steam: Joss

**A/N: Joss's POV, once again written by **_**Charlotte**_**. Please don't eat me if it's not up to the usual, sparkly, Joss excellence. I'm still getting my bearings.**

** -C**

_ Valerie Dearest,_

_ Surely the news has at this point reached you that Arthur Weasley was attacked by a killer snake from the Dark Side, and maybe news has reached you that he's stable, but just in case, here's the latest._

_ He's stable._

_ Basically, they've still yet to find the antidote to the venom, but all it's doing is preventing clotting and healing and all that jazz, so Emma's tearing her and everyone else's hair out trying to figure out what kind of freakin' snake it is (Charlie got any clues?) and snapping at everything on two legs that isn't Bill, and even then she sometimes snaps._

_ You should see this, it's hilarious. I love it when she yells at other people._

_ How are things in Far, Far Away with your dashing Charles? Had any babies yet? (No, but seriously, if you're planning on having babies I had better be the first one to know and it had better be at least named after me in spirit. I can't say as I'd wish 'Jocelyn' on any little tyke.)_

_ Let's see, updates... It's been so crazy around here that it's hard to keep track. Did you know that Umbridge has been CARVING WORDS into people's skin? And I thought I had detention rough. Jo was telling me all about it, although she refuses to take off her gloves around anyone these days, so despite the fact that she insists she hasn't got any marks, I'm not sure I'm buying it._

_ I dunno why she'd care about showing me, though. It's Emma who would go mental. I'd just start killing people._

_ No big deal._

_ Fred and George are a bit more sober these days, I mean, not being total loons sober. I plead the fifth on any possible substance usage that may or may not be occurring on their part._

_ I suppose it's only to be expected, a small change in their behavior. After all, their dad did just nearly die._

_ I... I haven't talked with Emma about this because I don't even know where I would start, but... but I had some memories the other day, about Dad. I hadn't had a really strong one in a long time. I know Arthur's attack triggered it. And I'm going to say it here, but I expect you to burn it and know that I will deny everything, but I'm getting a bit scared._

_ I've started getting... contemplative. That's the right word. I looked it up and everything, you'd be so proud of me._

_ But even when I'm having sex I can't stop thinking about things like loss and death and..._

_ Merlin, Val, I'm getting as barmy as Mum about attachment._

_ No, never that bad, but... but you must know what I mean. It's got to be really weird for you, being so far away when we're all in constant danger that Voldy's going to show his ugly face and the world will see the truth and..._

_ See, there I go again._

_ You can see why I've not discussed this with either Emma or Jo._

_ Well, that and because Emma's current condition was mentioned prior and Jo's got her own issues. Like the fact that she and George Weasley are pretty much staring at each other and yet still can't figure out that they're bloody obviously head over heels._

_ I'm not sure which of them is worse, a shy Weasley or an obstinate Wilde._

_ Nope, I take that back. We're all obstinate in our own ways, aren't we?_

_ I mean, some of us more than others, obviously, but I guess we had to get something from our mother._

_ I hope things are going well over there. Emma worries about you all the time, of course. And Jo gets a sort of glazed look whenever someone mentions either you or Charlie, like she's thinking about what you might be doing. And then she gets sort of pale. We don't talk about it, of course, for reasons mentioned above, but I'm sure that as much as you two are over there worrying about all of us, we're over here worrying about all of you._

_ Oh, I've got to cut this short and take off because Fred is murmuring things through the door that indicate he's incredibly horny and Sirius is letting us use his bed so that his Mum won't find us or hear us._

_ BY the way, before I go take care of my insatiable boyfriend, I thought I'd point out how awesome Sirius is. He's agreed to give me pointers on some of the stuff he used in the last war. Isn't that fantastic? I'm getting combat tips from a war vet/mass-murder-framed fugitive!_

_ Too bad nobody can know outside the Order._

_ ANYWAY, love you, gotta go before Fred breaks down the door, GO SCREW CHARLES!_

_ Much Love,_

_ Joss_


	44. Here They Come: Jo

Here They Come: Jo

_Love is a Battlefied_ Chapter 44

Grimmauld Place wasn't so bad once you got used to it. Sure, there was probably enough Dark stuff hidden in the corners to make you mad as Moody, but it was _magic_ and that was nice. I had never really had Christmas in a magical family's household. Emma had made a valiant attempt a couple Christmases when she and Val had been the only ones at Hogwarts: a little flying tinsel, glowing crystal balls of light, a silver star that never needed polishing.

But Grimmauld Place was decorated to the nines. Sirius Black—the one who was Harry's godfather and not a mass murderer to boot—was putting on tinsel that sang Christmas songs, fairy lights like they had at the Yule Ball, snow drifts in the halls, and Christmas trees with talking ornaments. And so many people! Having Emma and Joss there was fantastic: I hadn't realized how much I'd missed them until I had them standing before me. The Twins, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were all staying with Black, and so many people were in and out: Bill, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Mundungus. It was much better than going to Mum's and Hogwarts, unfortunately, wasn't really an option this year.

Not that I hadn't tried: since it was my last year, I gave presents to my favorite teachers. Or kind of favorite. McGonagall got a Gryffindor colors scarf with a live lion patch on it—the tiny thing would roar, yawn, and sleep. A sock monkey for Dumbledore because Harry once let slip that the old man had a penchant for socks. Snape, for good or for ill, was given a copy of _Prankster's Potions_ in hopes that he would lighten the hell up. I gave Flitwick a bouquet of rubber wands sprouting daisies from their tips. I _would _have given a decent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher a suitable present, but as it was I just gave Lupin a new waterproof traveling cloak with warming spell lining.

Considering my recent bout of troublemaking, my presents from my sisters were…varied. I had wrote them all about my reasons. Emma still sent me a Howler at school and had given me a stern lecture after the joyous part of our Christmas reunion was over. Val had sent a normal admonishing letter from Romania, but also a box of Turkish delight. Joss had given me a bear hug that possibly ruined my future kidney health and five boxes of the finest Honeydukes chocolate. I assumed Fred had also been telling her on Umbridge. I couldn't really blame Val and Emma for being angry though: I sent Val her favorite English cheese and Emma a twenty pack of chocolate frogs (though I may or may have not laced a few of those with sleeping powder because have you _seen_ the bags under her eyes?). Joss got a box of flavored condoms, the slag.

So overall the fallout from The Prank wasn't too bad. Umbridge had me in nightly detention until Graduation. She would have had me expelled or suspended, but she couldn't prove I'd done everything—just the mess of her office. No one had seen me, after all.

And the Hogwarts population loved me anyway. That was something. Everyone who hated Umbridge, which was, unsurprisingly a lot of people, wanted to shake my hand, talk with me, talk with the Twins. It was a lot of attention that I didn't necessarily have the patience for, but I kind of liked it all the same. It distracted me from N.E.W.T.s, that night's detention, the pain on the back of my hand.

The school time downsides of The Prank were as follows: (1) George was furious with me at first, had actually hexed me into a Full-Body Bind until he was finished glowering, which took all of five minutes because he admired the spell-work and overall he wanted to whine about not being included; (2) I had to quietly check out _A Witch's Guide to Simple Healing_ and _See No Evil: a Guide to Glamours_; (3) a new sudden need to acquire fashionable fingerless gloves because while I had the ability to cast a glamour charm, I hadn't ever wanted or needed to permanently maintain any sort of spell. I didn't want anyone to accidently see. I wanted to defy Umbridge and leave her out of a bloody job, and that meant not showing anyone how it hurt. What was on my hand was for my eyes only. And thankfully, the cold weather gave an excuse for gloves.

And chess was more fun to think about than bloody gloves anyway.

Ron and I had teamed up to try to beat the Twins at chess. Ginny, Harry, and Sirius were watching on, giving comments on both sides, while Hermione read the books Harry'd given her for Christmas. At peace for once, Joss was sitting on Fred's lap, and I counted as a major strategy towards us winning. The other major strategy was me flirting with George.

"Don't expect to take my queen that easily, George," I said. I placed long fingers on the piece, running a thumb across the round top, and tilting my head downward while looking up so I could barely see George's reddening face through my lashes. I licked my lips, biting my lower lip a little. "Your strategy is half-baked: try to be a little harder."

While he was processing the innuendo and Joss was leaning back to whisper something filthy in Fred's ear, I positioned the queen in the perfect position to steal the Twins' bishop. To keep up the heat, I opened my legs and leaned forward to touch George's foot under the table.

Ron was so focused on beating my brothers that he didn't notice, which was good because usually I was a bit shit at chess and I wanted Ron's attention on the game. Fred was still listening to Joss, who might have started nibbling his ear. I slid a toe under George's trouser leg, going up and down, just as he was moving his pawn to a completely useless position. His legs had curly blond-red hair. Interesting.

"If you four are quite done flirting," Sirius grunted. He moved back George's pawn. "Move over."

Ginny suddenly stood. "Yes, do in fact move over. And Jo, may I have a word?"

"What?" I said, tearing my eyes away from George's heated face to look at Ginny. Her face was all pale and her fists clenched for some reason. "But we haven't finished the game!"

"I'm up for finishing the game," Joss said, standing and tugging Fred up by the collar. "Come on Freddie."

"Aw come on!" I whined, watching Joss and Fred's retreating back. "Don't be such a slag, Joss."

Joss waved a two fingered salute, "You're the one that gave me rubbers, little sister…"

I groaned as they disappeared up the stairs. Sirius sighed and looked a bit wistful, but moved over to Fred's seat. "Right, Harry, come play me."

"Yes, and you come with me." Ginny reached down and grabbed my sleeve, dragging me upstairs.

"What, Ginny, stop! George, do something!"

George made to follow, but Sirius put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his shaggy head. "Sit down, lad."

George might have made a move to protest, but I was too busy not knocking into doorframes and getting my face too close to the floor. "Ginny!" I blustered. "Watch it!"

We reached our room, the one we were sharing with Hermione. Ginny threw me in by the sleeve. I was increasingly disliking this situation.

Ginny had me cornered. Shit.

"Can I help you?" I said, trying to take control. Her face was pale, her eyes glittering in anger, I realized. What had she to be angry about? I reviewed my past actions—Ginny had liked The Prank, so what…

Ginny sat on her bed, a green sheet affair. I sat on mine, facing her. Dread filled my stomach, but I pushed it down. With coming comprehension, I hope this wasn't about what I thought this would be about.

"Jo, I know we're not the best of friends, but I need to tell you something."

"Uh-huh. Go on." Where was the Weasley girl going with this?

"George is in love with you."

I…pardon? My mouth dropped open at her bluntness, and I felt the color drain from my face. Was the room moving or was that just me?

"Stop acting shocked, really now." When I didn't responded, she sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. "He's loved you since last year, and whatever weird thing you have against us Weasleys, I want you to get over it."

My mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. "I don't have anything against you. You're one of the kindest families I've ever met."

"Then what's the problem?" she hissed. Her hands were clasped together on her lap and the knuckles were starting to turn white.

"I-I just—"

"I'm listening," she said tersely. "Somewhere, deep down, I'm sure you love him too, but I need that to surface because I will not," Her eyes glittered even more at this, her mouth a thin line of hate, "watch him pine away. What you were doing downstairs was just embarrassing."

"I—Ginny, I don't want a relationship," My hands were shaking and brought them up to hold my heavy head. "What with N.E.W.T.s and—"

Ginny scoffed. "As if you and the twins ever cared about N.E.W.T.s."

"I do care!" I startled, hands flying down. I wasn't going to be weak in front of this fourth year. I stood. "It's important to my sisters and I. And you—you don't know what it's like, living in our house. I don't want to end up like my mother, lost and shattered and alcoholic."

Ginny, who didn't know much of our family history, looked a bit taken aback. "What has your Mum got to do with this?"

"Well, maybe you should ask around before you chew me out," I spat, hands balling into fists, face going red. "But since I'm here and you're trying to protect your brother, I'll tell you: our Muggle mother married a wizard and he _died_ in the First Wizarding War and _it destroyed her_. That's what happens when you get attached to people, Ginny, when you go loving someone, they fucking die on you and you're all alone!"

I stood there, my whole body shaking now. I could barely see through the film of tears. Ginny was composing herself, preparing a retort, but I interrupted, "That's what's going to happen to you, me, your brothers, heck it almost happened with _your_ mother: we're all going to lose someone, and it's going to hurt like Dante's seventh hell, and excuse me if I want to spare myself some of that pain."

I began going towards the door, effectively ending the conversation. But then Ginny whispered, "You coward."

I just kept walking: who cared what baby ginger thought? I guess I'll just leave Grimmauld Place then since I've pissed off the Weasleys. It was a fun Christmas while it lasted.

I opened our bedroom door, and of course, of fucking bloody course, George was standing there, looked more shocked and pale than a recently deceased ghost.

"I suppose you heard everything," I croaked. "You and your sister are right gits, you know that. Of course I love you."

There. I said it. Was everyone happy now.

It was his turn to open and close his mouth like a flopping flobberworm. I just brushed past, heading down the stairs. I didn't care where I went, so long as it wasn't here. Or Mum's. I would just rough it the last couple weeks of break, maybe go to Bristol or something to take in the sites. I patted my wand, safely in my pocket: I was of age. I could transfigure or summon anything I wanted.

I passed the Twins' bedroom on the way out to hear a mattress squeaking. At least Joss was distracted.

"Jo!" I heard George call behind me. "Jo, wait!"

I broke into a run. I didn't want. I want.

I raced down the stairs, passing the kitchen and living room. I was almost to the entrance hall's severed foot umbrella stand when there was a noise like a whipcrack_,_ and George was in front of me. Frowning, he said, "Why do you _always_ do this?"

"Goodbye George. I'll see you beginning of term."

"Would you just—" He grabbed my shoulder, pulling me into a hug. I instantly wrapped my arms around him, squeezing hard. It was a reflex now. He stroked my hair as I buried my face into his shoulder. "Thank you," he sighed. "Merlin."

"I will make canaries bite off your nose."

"That's right, you just threaten all you want."

"I will do it."

"Mmmhmm. And Fred and I will run for Minister of Magic."

"That would be brilliant and you know it."

We were quiet for a moment. Then he said, "It's all right now. We're all right."

It was only then that I realized I was crying, the tears soaking into his shirt.


End file.
